A New Swordsman in Los Angeles - PART 1
by Frapper
Summary: Spin off from the NWZ episode "A New Lease on Love", season 3. What could have happened if Victoria actually married Juan Ortiz. Taking part on the "Too Much Wine" challenge.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Notes****: This is my first fanfiction story. It takes part on the "Too Much Wine" challenge, which should include: someone drinking too much wine; a new sword; a kiss from a stranger; an argument; at least one sword fight.**

**It is my first story ever written in English, which is not my first language, so bear with me!**

**It starts slowly describing season 3 episode "A New Lease on Love", and then spins off into a completely new story when Victoria says "Yes" to Juan Ortiz.**

**Warning: some people have pointed out the medical scenes treating wounds are too descriptive, so skip these if you are too apprehensive. I like getting Zorro/Diego in trouble and then nurse him back to health in glorious detail, as accurately as possible with treatments used in the 1800's. Personally, I don't think these scenes are gruesome but informative, but… you have been warned! **

**Enjoy and please, review. Even if you read this story years after it was published. I appreciate reviews and feedback at any time, and they are great motivators to keep me writing. Thanks. **

**A New Sworsman in Los Angeles – Part 1**

DISCLAIMER: this story is based on the NWZ series. It is a non-profit project intended for entertainment purposes only. All copyrights on the characters belong to Zorro Productions inc. except the original characters created by me (i.e the Blasco family and Manolo Ruiz.)

**Chapter 1 – Victoria needs a husband. Pronto!**

It was a day of celebrations in Los Angeles. A large crowd gathered at the pueblo's mission where a very popular couple were getting married by Padre Benítez. The church was full of friends and family who were kindly smiling at the happy couple while they took their vows. Victoria was attending the wedding with the De la Vegas, sitting in a pew between Don Alejandro and Don Diego. Although she was delighted for her friend, she frowned while thinking about her own wedding with Zorro, troubled that it would never become a reality. Diego, who was sitting close to her on the bench, was having similar thoughts, glancing worryingly at Victoria's absent expression. An old lady suddenly leaned forward from the bench behind them, approaching Victoria over her right shoulder, startling her.

"It is time you got married," said the pueblo's most notorious gossip busybody. She noticed Diego looking sideways at them. "Oh, not to each other, of course, that would be _ridiculous,_" she added.

Diego could not help wondering why that idea would be so ludicrous. After all, he was an eligible bachelor, and for a while that same old crock had been trying to match him with some odd, unsuitable ladies.

"You, Diego, are a lost cause. You haven't got a romantic bone in your body," she lashed out, obviously resentful about his lack of interest in the ladies she chose for him. "But you, Victoria, you should find a good husband and have little ones," she finished, retreating back to her seat.

Victoria quickly glanced sideways at Diego, uncomfortable with the situation. No, she didn't need to marry any other man, she wanted to marry Zorro.

The wedding ceremony came to an end shortly after, and the De la Vegas stood up to leave the church. Victoria, absent minded, remained seated without realizing it was time to leave. The old lady saw this as an opportunity to carry on with her task: to convince Victoria to look for a husband. Diego hesitated in the aisle when he saw that señora Rodríguez was approaching Victoria again, but he was gently pushed towards the church's entrance by his father, dragged away with the rest of the crowd.

"Let's face it, Victoria, Zorro is not the marrying kind," the old gossip attacked again. She went on and on about how difficult Victoria's marriage to Zorro would be, and what an excellent catch Victoria was. "Let me find you a husband, before it's too late," she offered in the end.

"Thank you señora, I will think about it," Victoria snapped, wishing for the lady to get lost.

Señora Rodríguez left the church, satisfied, leaving Victoria on her own. Padre Benítez, noticing something was troubling Victoria, stopped to ask if he could be of assistance. She talked to the priest, seeking counsel for her dilemma, and he confirmed her suspicions that Zorro would never have time to be a good husband or to start a family.

"Victoria, child, your heart is so full of love. You must find someone to share it with," he advised.

"Yes, I must," she mused. _But who would that be if not Zorro? _

ZZZ

Señora Rodríguez wasted no time in presenting Victoria with a suitor, a pompous caballero who arrived at the tavern singing dull camp songs with a guitar. Don Diego, Don Alejandro and Sergeant Mendoza shared a table at the tavern, and were very amused at the man's meagre efforts to impress Victoria. She had graphic thoughts about where to shove that guitar, but rather than being so rude, she just threatened to break it into pieces and toss it into the fire if he didn't stop following her around.

"Well, well, a very interesting turn of events," Don Alejandro said, laughing.

"But I thought señorita Escalante was in love with Zorro," Sergeant Mendoza said.

"Didn't we all?" Diego said casually, although his heart was sinking.

Alcalde De Soto was at the tavern also, at a table at the back. He was twiddling his fingers, contemplating this interesting new gossip regarding Victoria's search for a husband. De Soto grinned as he began to formulate a plan to trap Zorro, who would undoubtedly confront Victoria – perhaps even disrupting the wedding ceremony itself.

De Soto called the sergeant to his table and, speaking quite close to his ear, ordered:

"Sergeant Mendoza, I want you to organize a rotation with the men to have Victoria constantly monitored, 24 hours a day, to alert the garrison when Zorro shows up." Mendoza looked at him, puzzled. "It is only a matter of time, and I bet it will be quite soon, that Zorro will come to punish her for this reckless behaviour. We need to protect her!" he said, stamping his fist on the table.

"Do we?" Mendoza said, doubtful. "But…, mi Alcalde, he loves señorita Escalante. I don't think… "

"Do as you are told!" De Soto snapped.

Mendoza was not very happy with this, but he saluted "Sí, mi Alcalde!" and set off to carry out De Soto's orders.

ZZZ

Diego was very concerned about Victoria, and how determined she looked in her quest to find a husband. He wasn't worried about the unsuitable candidates chosen by the old gossipy matchmaker, but Victoria was a very beautiful woman, and sure enough there would be many more worthy suitors to come forward if she should show any interest. Diego played with the idea of courting Victoria himself. After all, if she was so eager to marry a man offering a safe and happy family life, his chances were as good as anybody else's. He wished that she could love him as Diego before she would agree to marry him, before he could tell her his secret. Nevertheless, it was unlikely that she would really love any of the potential husbands to start with, because she was so much in love with Zorro. He didn't want to risk rejection from Victoria, but he didn't want to risk losing her to another man, either.

ZZZ

Diego finally made up his mind to talk to Victoria about his true feelings. As he walked through the door, he saw the old lady leaving the tavern with another one of her rejected suitors.

"The woman's _impossible_!" she complained bitterly as she passed Diego.

He laughed at her blustering demeanour before approaching an obviously busy Victoria, who was serving lunches.

"Victoria, there is something I _must_ talk to you about…" he said, hesitantly.

"Now, Diego? It's almost noon and I have lunch to prepare," she said hastily, and she walked off.

Diego shrugged his shoulders awkwardly. There would be another chance to tell her.

ZZZ

After Diego left the tavern, Juan Ortiz, one of Victoria's childhood sweethearts, who had become a Navy officer, entered the kitchen. He told Victoria he was going to be promoted to Captain, and he was going to settle in Monterey, away from the sea. He suddenly confessed he was still in love with her after all that time, and asked Victoria to marry him.

"I will be by your side every day. My prospects are excellent. I will do everything in my power to make you happy," he said, eagerly.

She was quite surprised with the offer, but these were the words she wanted to hear most. An offer of… _stability_. No more hiding. No more loneliness. A real life.

"I will let you think about it. We can get married tomorrow, if you accept me," Juan said, full of hope. "I need to go back to Monterey in two days."

Victoria didn't know what to do. She always liked Juan, she still did, but she didn't love him anymore. But his offer was very tempting. He was a good man, handsome, and as he said, he could make her happy. She could have all the children she wanted. And moving away from Los Angeles to Monterey would help her to forget about Zorro.

"I will think about it tonight," she promised. "I will let you know my decision in the morning."

ZZZZZ


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 – The new sword and its first fight ever**

De Soto examined his new sword, which had arrived from Spain the day before. It had been made especially for him in Toledo by a renowned swordsmith. The alcalde could not wait to use it to kill Zorro, a feat which would allow him to return to Madrid as a hero.

Just in case the new sword could not fulfil its purpose, De Soto was also waiting for the arrival of a crate containing a new kind of cannon, capable of blowing Zorro away in _tiny little pieces_. He thought that Victoria's wedding, if it happened, would be the perfect opportunity to try it out. In case Zorro tried to destroy it, he could also set a trap around the crate on its way to Los Angeles.

De Soto smiled grimly with delight at his own cleverness. He looked at the picture hanging on the wall. It was a portrait of Machiavelli, his role model.

_He would be so proud of me_, he thought.

ZZZ

Diego came back to the hacienda, where Felipe told him about a mysterious large crate guarded by the soldiers, on its way to Los Angeles. He decided Zorro should have a look inside that crate the next day, because that night his priority was Victoria, and the crate could wait.

After dusk, he changed into Zorro's clothes, jumped on Toronado and headed for Los Angeles. He had overheard Sergeant Mendoza complaining earlier about the tedious task of guarding Victoria at all times, so he was prepared for a possible trap. He had seen De Soto talking to Mendoza in the tavern, and he knew the alcalde was up to something.

Zorro arrived quietly in the dark, stood on Toronado's saddle to climb onto the roof, as usual, and walked along the tiles carefully, looking for the guards. Corporal Sepúlveda was standing outside the tavern yawning, guarding the entrance and the window. He took his helmet off for a moment to scratch his scalp, and Zorro neutralized him by dropping a tile on his head, entering the tavern through the ceiling right afterwards. Another lancer was inside, following Victoria around while she tidied up, to her utter annoyance. Zorro approached him from behind, knocking him out with a hard blow to his head.

"Victoria," Zorro called, quietly.

"Zorro! You are here!" she gasped, running into his arms. Zorro hugged Victoria, breathing in deeply the sweet scent of her hair. "I knew you would come tonight," she said happily.

"Yes, I need to talk to you," he said, looking into her beautiful dark eyes, not sure which words to use next. "I've seen you busy lately, looking for a husband," he teased.

Victoria looked down, embarrassed, and smiled nervously.

"Yes, well. You know how much I would love to start a family… to share my life with a man I love." She looked at him again, waiting for him to ask her to be his wife.

"I have been thinking… You _should_ have a husband," he said, softly, caressing her cheek. She awaited his next words with anticipation. "Someone like… _Don Diego,_" he pushed.

"Don Diego?" she asked, puzzled. "But…, I don't understand, I thought we shared special feelings… I thought you came here to tell me you didn't want me to marry anybody else but you."

"Of course, I would like to marry you, Victoria, but I don't think I can give you the kind of life you are longing for. Outlaws don't make good husbands. Besides, Don…" Zorro was interrupted by the arrival of the alcalde and a handful of soldiers.

"I knew you would come to see señorita Escalante," the alcalde said with his evil smile on display, brandishing his new shiny sword. "You are so predictable, Zorro."

"Alcalde," Zorro saluted, bowing his head slightly while pushing Victoria aside with his left hand, drawing slowly his own sword. "Why are you always interrupting? It is _so_ impolite." He smiled, stepping slowly backwards, ready for action. "What do you have there? Is that a new sword, Alcalde? Be careful not to slash yourself, it looks awfully sharp," he scoffed.

Spurred by these words, De Soto lunged at Zorro with a furious groan. Zorro deflected the blade easily with a beat parry, moving to a side at the same time, allowing the alcalde to carry on with his momentum. He then turned quickly and kicked the alcalde hard on his bottom, sending him flying across the room. De Soto banged his head on a wall, knocking himself unconscious.

"Alcalde, are we done already? How disappointing!" Zorro said, walking closer to him. With a flash of his sword he carved a neat Z on his trousers, over his rear end, right where he had kicked him before. He then turned to face the soldiers to attack them, and one by one disarmed them all with a succession of quick beats with his sword. One of them drew a pistol, and Victoria shouted:

"Zorro, look!"

He quickly grabbed a bottle from the counter with his left hand and threw it to the soldier's face, knocking him unconscious as well.

"Anybody else? I really don't have the time or the patience for this tonight!" he said menacingly. The soldiers stumbled backwards, away from him and his sword.

"Señorita, I have to leave," Zorro said, sheathing his sword. "I hope you will consider my words." He kissed her hand and, before she had time to say anything, he stepped out into the night and disappeared.

She walked furiously towards the alcalde, who lay unconscious on the floor, and kicked his bottom too, right on the "Z".

"You, idiot!" she cried.

ZZZ

Victoria was twisting and turning in bed that night, sleepless. She was very disappointed with Zorro, who not only didn't ask her to marry him, he even suggested she should find another man. Zorro's words resonated in her head once and again: _"You should have a husband… I don't think I can give you the kind of life you are longing for." _She was so despondent over these words that she never once considered the implications of the rest –_"someone like… Don Diego."_

In the morning, after a long night of deliberation, when Juan asked her again to marry him, she accepted.

"We can get married in the afternoon, and leave for Monterey immediately after. Thank you, Victoria, I am so happy," Juan said, overjoyed.

Victoria had little time to send invitations, to prepare a few things for the wedding, to pack her things to move to Monterey, and to decide who would run the tavern for her until she could sell it. She was enjoying the adrenaline rush such frantic activity provided, but soon she started to have second thoughts about her hasty decision.

ZZZ

It was already late in the morning when Diego decided to have a look at the mysterious crate. He was very cross with the alcalde for the interruption the night before, and was very keen to spoil De Soto's plans, whatever they were.

"Diego! Where are you?" Don Alejandro called upstairs, looking for him.

"Oh, what does he want now?" he asked, annoyed. "Felipe, just tell him I went to Santa Paula to the bank."

He changed quickly into Zorro's clothes, jumped on Toronado, and left the cave, completely unaware that Victoria had accepted Juan and they were going to be married that afternoon. He still thought he would have time to talk to Victoria again soon, either as Zorro or himself, and sort things out.

ZZZ

Zorro was approaching the crate to have a look inside, his senses distracted with thoughts of Victoria, when the ground suddenly gave way and he fell into a trap. It was a large pit, too deep to climb out from the bottom. The lancers were expecting Zorro and arrived quickly to surround the pit, pointing their muskets at him. Zorro cursed himself for being so careless.

"We have Zorro!" the soldiers shouted, excited.

Zorro stayed calm, smiling, despite the amount of muskets pointing at his heart, and was able to create havoc, cracking his whip all around the pit. He lashed at the lancers repeatedly, managing to either: disarm them; make them miss their aim; or drag them into the pit. To get out of the deep hole, he climbed over the pile of soldiers who had fallen inside. He called Toronado and they left, swiftly galloping away.

Some of the lancers fired their muskets at Zorro in their usual aimless, hurried way. They were so disappointed he had escaped from the trap that they gave up on the chase and didn't bother to get on their horses. Toronado was so fast there was no point in following.

But, this time, Zorro was shot in the back. The lancers didn't even notice. They were so used to missing their target that they didn't think it was possible to hit him, as if he was protected by a mystic, impenetrable aura.

ZZZ

"Diego!" Don Alejandro called again. _Why is he never around when I look for him?_ "Ah, Felipe, listen. Where is Diego? I want you to find him. We are going to a wedding. Victoria is marrying Lieutenant Juan Ortiz this afternoon."

Felipe read the invitation, quite worried. He could not tell Diego because he had already left to have a look at the crate. It would take him a while to return, and it would be too late.

ZZZ

Zorro leaned forward in pain, trying not to lose his balance, to avoid falling off the horse. It was difficult to keep on the saddle while Toronado galloped so fast, in his usual frantic style. When they were out of reach, Zorro grabbed the reins with his right hand and slowed down Toronado's pace. He could not move his left arm, felt a throbbing pain in his shoulder with each step, and was having trouble breathing. Due to his medical knowledge he was worried the wound could be deep, penetrating into his thoracic cage damaging the lung, not just a flesh wound affecting the shoulder's muscles. Knowing that it would be hard to reach the cave without passing out, Zorro gritted his teeth and continued slowly, holding onto Toronado's mane, because he had no other choice.

After an hour of torture, Toronado stepped onto the plank to open the cave entrance. Zorro just held on for a few more seconds while the horse stepped in, walking slowly to his stall. Zorro dived into the inviting darkness, and slumped on the ground. He didn't even hear the loud _thunk _his body produced. Luckily for him, he didn't feel it, either.

ZZZZZ


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 – The wedding**

Victoria was twisting her beautiful pink roses' bouquet, spinning it anxiously under sweaty hands. She looked around the church once more, trying to discover a hint of Zorro, who was coming to get her out of this plight. _Where is he_? she wondered for the umpteenth time. He could not let her go on with this charade of a wedding, surely. He should make a dramatic appearance any minute now.

Loud organ wedding music suddenly started, and she jumped, startled.

"Oh, Victoria, here we go," Don Alejandro said, approaching her from the right, offering his left arm. Victoria engaged it mechanically with hers, panicking. _This is it_.

"You look so beautiful today. If only Diego could see this." He started walking towards the aisle, but Victoria did not move, so he turned to face her. Surprised by her anguished expression, he asked with great concern: "What is it Victoria? Are you all right?" Then it dawned on him. "It's not Zorro, is it?"

"Yes, of course, Don Alejandro," she cried. "He is not here!"

"Do you want him to come to stop the wedding? Are you sure?"

"Yes… No… Maybe… I don't know!" she replied incoherently, twisting the stems so tightly she started bleeding at the pressure on the thorns, but she didn't even notice the pain.

"Victoria, my child, calm down," he whispered, retreating to the entrance of the church, pushing her gently along the way. "We all know you are infatuated with Zorro, but do you really love the man behind the mask, and not the legend?"

"Yes, of course I do," she replied, eagerly.

"But, he is not the marrying kind. He cannot settle and give you a normal family."

"Everybody is telling me the same, Don Alejandro," she agreed, shaken. "I don't know what to do. I love him so much, but… I want to have a family, I want to have children. I don't think I can wait forever. He even told me last night I should find a husband… but…"

"Do you see?" Alejandro said, with hope. "He knows he can't possibly make you happy, that's why he is suggesting other options for you. If he is half the man I think he is, he should not interfere with your wedding and your happiness."

"What should I do?" she asked, in a whisper.

"Do you like Juan? Are you good friends? Do you think you may grow to love him?" Don Alejandro asked. She nodded, and he offered his arm again. "Shall we, then?" Victoria finally made up her mind, grabbed his arm, and started to walk towards the aisle.

ZZZ

Toronado was nudging his master's lifeless body, pushing him softly, but he didn't react. The horse, irritated and cross, stomped on the ground several times with its right hoof, neighing and blowing and shaking his head. _Where was the other younger guy, the quiet one?_ He should come to take off the saddle and tend to him, and take care of his master, who didn't look right, there, on the ground. Toronado pushed Zorro again in the back, this time noticing the taste of blood, and impatiently started to neigh loudly, calling for help. There was no reply. The horse turned his erected ears towards the stairs, but could not hear any noises coming from the house, so he came back to the cave entrance and activated the mechanism to open it, stepping out in search for help.

ZZZ

"Victoria, will you take Juan to be your husband?" Padre Benítez said. She was still looking around, discretely searching for Zorro. "Do you promise to be true to him in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love and to honour him all the days in your life?"

_Last chance_, she thought. He wasn't here, he wasn't coming. Probably it was for the best. So many people could not be wrong.

"Victoria?" said the priest, looking at her with a kind smile. "Do you?"

"Uuuh….." she hesitated. "Yes, I do," she said, finally. _Oh my God, what have I done?_

ZZZ

Toronado found Felipe in the plaza. He was waiting for Don Alejandro with the carriage to drive him back home after the wedding. To avoid being seen, the horse carefully retreated to the back of the church and called from there with a loud neigh. Felipe recognized that sound, but could not see Zorro or Toronado. Then he heard the noise again, coming from the back. Felipe looked around, but nobody else seemed to have noticed. They were chatting away unconcerned, coming out of the church. He slowly walked among the crowd to the back of the church, finding there a quite distressed Toronado, who was pawing the ground, snorting, pushing him repeatedly with his head. Zorro was not there. Something was wrong.

Felipe patted the horse on the neck to try to calm him down, but Toronado kept pushing him towards the saddle, and bit him gently in the arm, inviting him to climb up. Felipe backed off and gesticulated, trying to make the horse understand he had to go back to the carriage, and then he would head home. Toronado got quite fed up with him and bolted, galloping away, leaving a puzzled Felipe behind.

ZZZ

Felipe was driving the carriage back to the hacienda at a brisk pace.

"Felipe, slow down," Don Alejandro said, signing to Felipe with his hand up and down. "Where is the fire?" he joked. He was in a very good mood. Felipe slowed the horse down a bit. Don Alejandro carried on chatting: "Victoria was so beautiful, don't you think? She will be happy in Monterey. We are going to miss her at the tavern, though." Felipe nodded quietly, turning back to look ahead. "It is a shame Diego wasn't there, she is like a little sister to him. Where was he, again?" he asked, not waiting for a reply, talking to himself. "Oh, yes, he went to Santa Paula's bank. Why is he always away on one thing or another?" Felipe didn't react, pretending he could not hear him. "I bet there is a lady involved, maybe he is finally in love. That would be fantastic," he laughed, excited. "I am running out of time, Felipe," he said, more serious now. "I am getting old. I want babies in the house!" he finished, waving his gloves at Felipe.

ZZZZZ


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 – Dr Felipe administers too much wine **

Felipe rushed down the stairs, looking for Diego. He found him lying unconscious on the ground, face down, close to Toronado's pen. He knelt down close to him and shook him gently, but Diego didn't flinch. He tried again more vigorously; still no response. Felipe ran his hands over his head wondering what to do. He struggled to turn Diego over because he was too heavy for his strength. When he finally managed to turn him over, a large amount of blood, coming from Diego's wound in his back, pooled on the ground. Felipe looked at his own hands, soaked in blood, disbelieving. He stood up and paced around the cave aimlessly, forgetting about the blood and running his hands over his head again in a nervous tick, staining his hair with Diego's blood.

He thought about the available options: he could not possibly get a doctor involved without revealing Zorro's identity; he could try to read some of Diego's medical books and treat him himself, but that frightened him terribly; or he could go upstairs and get Don Alejandro, who would probably faint at finding out Diego's secret and his present condition, and then he would have two unconscious bodies to look after in the cave… or he could…

Felipe's train of thought was interrupted by an impatient Toronado, who was stamping on the ground and whinnying, urging him to do something. After all, that's why the horse came to find him in the first place, not to look at him wandering around the cave like a fool.

Felipe came back, knelt down beside Zorro again and removed his mask gently. Diego was very pale, his forehead covered in cold sweat. He didn't have a fever, at least not yet. Felipe looked around, and decided to improvise a bed on the ground close to Diego, because unless the latter was able to walk, he would not manage to move him a great distance away. After spreading an even thick layer of hay on the ground, he placed a couple of blankets over to make a mattress. He went to the house to get clean sheets, clothes to make bandages, towels and a couple of medical books, carefully avoiding Don Alejandro. When he returned to the cave, he heard a soft grunting noise. Diego was conscious now and trying to sit up, unsuccessfully.

"Felipe…. Water," he said, in a rasping low voice. Felipe rushed to get him a glass and helped him to sit up slightly, holding the glass to his lips. He drank it all.

"Thanks," he said, dropping back on the floor, exhausted. "How long have I been here?" he asked, looking around, blinking, his brain still waking up. "You have blood in your hair. Are you all right?"

Felipe shrugged his shoulders, pointing his finger to his head and then to Diego's chest. He signed he didn't know how long Diego had been lying there. He also asked what happened.

"One of the lancers finally got me with his musket, Felipe". He tried to laugh, but winced instead. "I am worried the ball has caused a lot of damage in my chest," he added, coughing and groaning at the same time.

_What are we going to do?_ Felipe signed.

"We can't get a doctor, not unless we can be sure he will keep Zorro's secret." He paused for a moment, breathing slowly. "I need you to look at the wound, clean it and tell me if the musket ball is still there. If it is, you may have to get it out."

Felipe opened his eyes widely, and shook his head again. With shaky hands, he helped Diego to take off the cape and his shirt, and to lie on the improvised mattress, close to the wall. Diego winced in pain every time he had to move his left arm, grunting. He rested lying on his right side while Felipe looked at the wound.

The entry point was in his back, just below his left shoulder blade, following an ascending trajectory. It was a large hole that was constantly oozing dark blood. There was a large haematoma in his chest, around the collar bone, with no exit wound there, which meant the ball was still inside Diego's chest. Felipe signed to indicate there was no open wound. He cleaned the blood and applied a cloth with some pressure to try to stop the bleeding in his back. Diego complained.

"Don't press, please, just leave it there. It is painful enough as it is. You won't be able to stop the bleeding like that, it is too deep." He stopped talking, struggling to breathe.

"Sometimes the ball can be under the skin when it loses speed and can't penetrate it to come out. I read that somewhere," he continued, between quick shallow breaths. It was very painful to expand the chest every time he took some air. "I can't breathe lying like this. Help me to sit up a bit." Felipe reached for him and helped him to lean on the wall, with his torso off the ground, the improvised bandage between him and the wall.

"I have a book on treatment of war wounds by John Hunter. You should get it," Diego said from a more comfortable position, breathing slightly better.

Smiling, Felipe went to fetch one of the books he'd already taken from the library and showed it to him proudly.

"Well done, Felipe, you are thinking ahead. You should read the chapter on gunshot wounds."

While Diego felt around the bruised area in his chest searching for the musket ball, moaning and groaning in the process, Felipe opened the book looking for the gunshot section. At random, he started to read some passages, feeling quite disheartened by some of the information: "_It is at first, in many cases, impossible to know what parts are killed, whether bone, tendon, or soft part, till the deadened part has separated, which often makes it a much more complicated wound than at first was known"._ He kept reading and was quite glad to know that the surgeon advocated for a conservative approach in most cases. The author didn't think it was usually necessary to cause more damage dilating the wound, using the forceps and probes to search for the ball and any other materials in there, such as pieces of cloth and bone, but it would be better if they could be removed. They often would come to the surface during the "_suppuration process_", whatever that meant. He liked one statement in particular: "_It is pretty well known that wounds of the lungs are not mortal. I have seen several cases where the patient has got well after being shot quite through the body and lungs."_

"I can feel something here," Diego said. "Yes, there it is, a bit deep, below my collar bone, which is broken, probably splintered," he added, out of breath. "It should be easy for you to remove the ball with a knife and forceps."

Felipe shook his head again, signing: "_Who? Me? No way!" _

"You will have to. There is nobody else," Diego said, looking intently at Felipe as he spoke. "You can do it."

Felipe finally nodded, uncertain.

"It is me I am not so sure about. This is going to hurt. A lot," he said, letting out a long sigh.

ZZZ

Victoria found herself travelling in a stagecoach to Monterey with Juan Ortiz, her newlywed husband. Everything had happened so fast, she still could not believe it. She had mixed feelings, excitement to start a new life, and deep sadness for the one she left behind. And longing for Zorro. She still had not come to terms with the fact that she probably would not see him again. "_Why didn't he show up at the wedding? Surely, he knew I was getting married, he always knows_ _everything,"_ she thought. "_Maybe he was in the crowd as himself, or didn't want to interfere, being such a gentleman, as Don Alejandro said."_

Whatever the reason Zorro wasn't there, Victoria didn't think he could be in any trouble. He never was, not really.

ZZZ

Felipe dashed about in the laboratory looking for a suitable knife with a sharp, small point. While searching frantically, several instruments fell off his trembling hands, bouncing and clanking on the floor. After a while, he found a small pocketknife that would allow him to control the depth of his cut, and thin, long forceps. Holding the items in his shaky fist he came back to Diego.

"Yes, that will do," Diego said, examining the instruments briefly. "You have to clean them quite well first," he advised, giving them back to Felipe. "Now, you have to be very careful with the knife. There is a large artery and vein in that area; hopefully it is not already damaged, or I would probably be unconscious."

_This is not helping!_ Felipe thought, already overloaded with apprehension.

"Can you look at my clothes and check if there are any small parts missing?" Diego asked. "Like small holes."

Felipe grabbed the cape and the shirt and examined them carefully, noticing that there was a single hole in the cape, and also in the shirt. He told Diego what he had found.

"Then you will need to look for these pieces. They will probably be quite close to the entry wound, in the back. You can use your finger for that. If they stay in, the wound will take much longer to heal, and I may develop an abscess." At that point, Diego started coughing, bringing up some blood. Felipe looked at him anxiously, with wide, fearful eyes.

"It's all right, Felipe, it's just a little bit of blood, that's all," he said, reassuringly, closing his eyes and resting for a moment. His breathing was shallow and more erratic now, and he was even paler than before.

"Now, Felipe, I need you to bring that Porto wine bottle that my father is keeping for a special occasion… like this one," he continued, with a half-smile, while stirring and trying to sit more upright, groaning again. He asked for more water, drinking the whole glass like before, asking for a second. Due to the bleeding and the cold sweat he was becoming dehydrated, and the wine could only make things worse. "I have to be still for you, so it will be better if I can get quite drunk. It will make it… more bearable, I hope."

ZZZ

Felipe washed the blood off his hair and hands before coming upstairs. Don Alejandro was lurking in the other room, and he spotted him on his way to the cellar.

"Felipe, is Diego back yet?" he asked. "I want to talk to him."

Felipe shrugged his shoulders and pointed to his eye, shaking his head at the same time.

"You haven't seen him. Never mind. I don't think he will be back tonight. We should have a serious talk when he shows up tomorrow," the old don said, storming out.

Felipe sneaked into the kitchen to get some food for Diego. Drinking a bottle of wine on an empty stomach could not be a good idea. He didn't get anything for himself because he already felt nauseous with the idea of the task ahead, and the chances of throwing up were very high. He found the Porto bottle and came back to the cave.

Diego ate some of the food and started drinking the wine. It was quite strong, and because he didn't usually drink alcohol, he felt quite drunk after half a bottle. He gave a few more instructions to Felipe, and asked him to get a stick to bite and something soft to grab onto with his right hand. Feeling very dizzy and drunk, he sat upright against the wall.

"I may pass out, but don't worry, keep going until you find it. I'll be all right," he said, putting the stick in his mouth.

Felipe grabbed the knife and felt the spot in Diego's chest where he said the musket ball was. He could not feel anything, and with unsteady hands he started to poke about, making Diego wince and bite hard on the stick. After a while, he lifted his right hand and showed Felipe where the ball was. Felipe still could not feel it, but started to cut a hole in that spot with the knife. Diego moved away a bit, involuntarily, with a reflex. He tried hard to stand still and not to cry out loudly, while Felipe kept digging with the knife, making him bleed.

Felipe paused for a moment, thinking about the artery Diego mentioned. He didn't have a clue of which one, where it was or how deep it was, so he decided to stop using the knife and to probe with his index finger. Diego closed his eyes, biting the stick hard and letting out a soft high pitch groan, squeezing a towel with his right hand, concentrating very hard to stand still. Felipe felt something hard, more than an inch deep into the muscle, and started to probe in the hole with the forceps, trying to grab it. His hand was shaking so much that the instrument was rattling about in the wound, driving Diego crazy with the pain. The wine was not helping that much after all.

Felipe finally managed to grab onto something, and started pulling away, until the forceps came out with a sudden burst, the musket ball firmly trapped at the end. Felipe, relieved, let out a long sigh and smiled widely showing the ball to Diego, who had opened his eyes and was resting with his head back, softening the pressure on the stick. He dropped it, and said with a slurred drunken voice:

"Well done Felipe. Now you need to find the pieces of cloth in the back. But let me rest a little bit first."

The new wound was oozing quite a lot of blood now, so Felipe applied a dressing while Diego rested. He had damaged a blood vessel while pulling with the forceps. Not the subclavian artery, but a large enough vein to cause significant bleeding. Felipe also took a moment to untack and feed Toronado, who was still unattended.

"Did you see my father?" Diego said, opening his eyes again. Felipe nodded. "Did he ask about me? I guess he is equally worried and angry." Felipe nodded again. "I need to make up a story about why I am not coming back for a while… I could say I fell off the horse, broke my collar bone and can't ride back home."

He asked for a piece of paper. With difficulty, due to the pain and his drunken state, he wrote a note to Don Alejandro telling him he would stay in Santa Paula for a while because of an injury.

"Give him this tomorrow. You should also get the mare and hide her in here, so my father doesn't see her at the stables. Now, are you ready to look for the pieces of cloth?" Felipe showed his palms up. "Try not to shake so much this time, please," Diego begged, with another half-smile. He turned his left shoulder away from the wall, resting on his right side only, and put the stick back in his mouth.

Felipe washed his hands again, and approached Diego from behind. He took off the dressing soaked in blood, and introduced his index finger in the wound as gently as he could, but Diego flinched involuntarily, letting out a cry. Felipe withdrew his finger quickly, scared.

"Try again," Diego said with a distorted voice, the stick still in his mouth.

Felipe introduced his finger again. This wound was much deeper and wider inside, and he was having trouble finding anything different between the tissues, nothing so obviously foreign like the musket ball. Diego tensed his whole body, trying to be still, biting the stick so hard he thought his teeth were going to fall apart in pieces. He let out a long groan, gradually growing in intensity while Felipe probed aimlessly in the wound, and after half a minute of torture he passed out, sliding slowly down the wall.

After Diego fainted, Felipe continued searching as instructed. It was a bit easier to manoeuvre without the tension. He used the forceps, and with great relief he managed to find the two pieces of cloth, rolled into one, which were not too far from the entry wound, just as Diego said. He gently washed the wounds afterwards, applied a thick layer of dressings on both sides, and placed the injured arm in a sling to minimize movement. Finally, he took off Zorro's boots, propped him upright with a few pillows so he could breathe better, and let him rest.

ZZZZZ


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 – The argument**

Felipe didn't rest much that night while caring for Diego, who didn't fully wake up after fainting. He remained in a semiconscious drunken state, vomiting at some point, spilling out all that wine over the improvised bed and on his dressings. Felipe was exhausted, and his back ached with all the strain caused by trying to move Diego's body to keep him clean and comfortable.

In the morning, Felipe went upstairs to change his clothes and get some food, and to give Don Alejandro the note. He pretended a courier had just arrived with it from Santa Paula.

"What is this?" Don Alejandro asked, frowning. "Diego says he has damaged his shoulder falling off his horse and cannot ride back here, but doesn't say where he is going to stay, or anything else." He looked at Felipe, waving the note at his face. "We should go in the carriage to bring him home. He'd better be really injured and not playing up with a lady, or I will maim him myself."

Felipe panicked for a moment. He could not leave Diego unattended in the cave for a whole day, possibly two, for a futile trip to Santa Paula. He played sick, nothing too difficult as he looked shattered, and Don Alejandro believed him.

"Oh Felipe, I didn't know you were sick. You certainly don't look very well. Stay here and rest, I will go on my own," Don Alejandro said, leaving the room to get ready.

ZZZ

Diego's forehead was burning. It had been like that for the last few hours. He was now delirious, calling for Victoria sometimes, agitated, murmuring unintelligible words most of the time. Felipe realized Diego still didn't know about Victoria's wedding, but that would have to wait.

Felipe changed the dressings several times. The wound he had created digging with the knife was healing nicely, but the one at the back was oozing lots of bloody thick fluids with a certain foul smell. Diego's face was pasty despite the fever, his breathing was very shallow and slow, with a worrying gurgling noise coming from his chest.

Felipe read most of the book, deciding he had done everything possible and he should wait and see. If he could get a doctor now, probably he would not be able to do anything different to help either. He continued applying cold compresses to Diego's forehead, trying to get his temperature down, and he further damaged his back while sorting out the mess caused by the patient's bodily functions.

ZZZ

Don Alejandro reached Santa Paula in the late afternoon. He searched for Diego at the public tavern, the only place with rooms available to rent, but he wasn't there. Then he located the doctor, who had not attended any traveller recently, and certainly nobody fitting Diego's description and injury. He also visited the bank, but Diego had not been there either. By then Don Alejandro was fuming. He rented a room at the tavern to stay the night, socializing with the locals, trying to find out any rumours of courting from someone like Diego, but nothing came up.

Don Alejandro came back to Los Angeles early in the afternoon the next day. He was so angry that Diego was so blatantly lying that he could not consider the option that his son was actually injured.

ZZZ

After a couple of days, Diego's fever broke, and he regained consciousness. He was very dehydrated, and drank large amounts of water and some bark and herbal infusions, following the books' advice. The gunshot wound was discharging a lot, with all the damaged tissues becoming necrotic and sloughing out, but it wasn't actively bleeding anymore, and it had not developed an abscess. Diego was having a lot of trouble breathing, because he suffered a mild pneumothorax on the left side of his chest, and had accumulated some blood in the pleural space, causing the lung to collapse. Also, all the damaged muscles and ribs in the thoracic cage hurt with every respiratory movement. He could only lie upright propped up with the pillows; any other posture was too uncomfortable.

Diego improved gradually over the next few days. A week after he was shot, he decided to go out riding on his mare, pretending he was coming back home with just a broken shoulder. Don Alejandro was getting quite concerned about his long absence, and Diego was quite fed up with lying on the ground, hiding in the cave.

"Felipe, you should get the mare out for a ride in order to make her look tired as if she has just come back from Santa Paula," Diego said while Felipe helped him to get dressed with his travel cloths. "And get her a bit dirty, too," he added, spreading some dust over himself to look tired. "Be very careful to avoid my father. Please don't let him see you riding her."

Felipe shook his head. _Of course I won't_, he signed.

"I'll be waiting at the entrance of the cave. Come back here and then I'll just ride slowly to the hacienda. I will be all right," he promised to a worried Felipe when the youngster came out of the cave riding the mare, quite unsure about his mentor's strength.

ZZZ

Don Alejandro was fixing a broken ornament at the entrance while Felipe swept the patio with some difficulty, because his back was still very stiff with all the strain. Diego was approaching the hacienda slowly riding his mare, a gentle creature which Don Alejandro could not imagine bolting and throwing anybody off the saddle, even less so an experienced rider like his son.

"I'll be damned," Don Alejandro said, crossing his arms and spreading his legs in a defiant posture, shaking his head slightly, lifting his chin up. "Look, Felipe, it's the return of the prodigal son."

His concern evaporated in an instant at the sight of Diego arriving quietly at a slow pace, and all that remained was the anger. Diego had his left arm in a sling, but Don Alejandro suspected he was pretending to be injured.

"Hello, son," he greeted him, with a severe tone. He held the reins and patted the mare. "Long time no see."

"Hello, Father," Diego said with an embarrassed, weak smile. Diego climbed down the horse grimacing with pain, but Don Alejandro didn't see this. Felipe took the reins and slowly walked off with the horse, glancing at Diego with a worried face.

"I am glad you are finally home, son," Don Alejandro said, walking behind Diego towards the door. Suddenly and deliberately he patted Diego's back very hard on his left shoulder, in an over-affectionate gesture.

Diego cried out loudly, stumbling to the ground in pain, surprised by the unexpected blow. When he turned over, gripping the left shoulder with his right hand, he was very pale, his face distorted by the pain and anger.

"Why on Earth did you do that?!" he shouted.

Don Alejandro realized that, unless his son was an extremely good actor, he was in a lot of pain. He regretted his reckless action deeply.

"I am sorry, Diego," he apologized. "I honestly thought you were trying to fool me. So, you really have a fractured shoulder, then?" he added, sheepishly. "I went to Santa Paula to bring you home, but nobody had seen you there, not even doctor Sánchez. Did you see a doctor, Diego? How bad is it? Will it be all right?" he asked, concerned again, carefully helping Diego up to his feet.

"The mare got frightened by a snake and reared up. I fell awkwardly, fractured my collar bone and dislocated the shoulder," he said, standing up with his father's help. "A travelling doctor put it back in place, and told me to keep the arm in a sling for a few weeks until it's healed, and advised me not to ride for a week. I didn't see doctor Sánchez. It is _very_ painful," Diego remarked. _Especially when I get a blow on the back like that, thank you._

"What happened afterwards? Where were you? Where did you stay?" Don Alejandro said, firing questions.

"A gentleman should not kiss and tell, father," Diego replied, aware of Don Alejandro's suspicions that he was courting a woman in Santa Paula. He thought his father would be pleased that he was showing some interest in women.

"So, where were you then? Did you really fall off the mare, injuring your shoulder, and hide in that lady's house for a week?" Don Alejandro said with his rage returning quickly, showing through his voice. "That's not how a gentleman behaves. Are you going to marry her?"

"Marry her?" _Oh, no, this is not going well_, he thought. "No, I don't think so."

"Why not? You cannot ruin a woman's reputation like that!" Don Alejandro shouted. He paused for a moment, then he continued with a hint of doubt. "Unless she is the kind of lady whose reputation is already ruined, is she? I am aware, Diego, that after all, you are a man, and you may have your needs, but this is not an acceptable behaviour in a De la Vega."

"Needs?" _Oh, Lord. Is he suggesting I stayed for a week with a prostitute?_ Diego really didn't want to go there. He was quickly digging a pit and falling in it with every word he said. They reached the library at that point, and Diego headed slowly for one of the armchairs, exhausted.

"Yes_, needs_!" Don Alejandro carried on shouting. "And to satisfy them you missed Victoria's wedding!"

"What?" Diego said, turning around to face his father.

"You heard me!" Don Alejandro shouted again. "While you were fooling around with a lady of leisure, Victoria got married and you missed the wedding! Didn't you know?"

Diego was stunned. He stood there with his mouth open, speechless. Felipe came into the library, hearing Don Alejandro's last words. He had not mentioned anything about Victoria's wedding, because he didn't want to confront Diego with that, worrying him unnecessarily while he was so sick. Diego looked at him, but Felipe cowardly ducked out pretending not to notice and left the room swiftly. Diego slumped into the armchair, with an anguished expression on his face. _Victoria… married?_

"Who was the groom?" he finally asked, with a cracked voice.

"Lieutenant Juan Ortiz. He is a good man, Victoria will be happy," Don Alejandro said. Diego nodded slowly, with an absent expression. "They moved to Monterey. You missed the chance to say goodbye," he barked at Diego, who agonized with sorrow while hiding his face with his right hand, fighting back the tears.

"What is it, Diego?" Don Alejandro asked, softening his tone, wondering why Diego… then he realized. "You love Victoria, don't you?" he gasped. Diego looked at him, helpless. "Did you ever tell her?" he asked, more kindly this time. Diego shook his head slowly.

"Diego, _you are killing me_!" Don Alejandro exploded then. "You let the woman you love marry another man while you enjoy the company of a prostitute! That's not how a De la Vega behaves!" he carried on shouting. "Sometimes I wonder if they switched babies when you were born!" he finished, storming out, slamming the door behind him.

ZZZZZ


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 – Kissed by a beautiful stranger**

Don Alejandro immediately regretted his harsh words to Diego and apologized when he calmed down. He was very sorry for his son because of what had happened with Victoria, and was very ashamed of his own behaviour when he shouted at Diego instead of supporting him. Diego accepted his father's apologies, but was deeply hurt by his words, especially the last ones.

A week later Diego was outside resting, getting some fresh air while sitting on a bench under a tree in the garden. After all the bark infusions Felipe made him drink he felt stronger and his cheeks were gaining colour. His chest was not so painful, the gurgling noise had disappeared and he could breathe much better now. Although the gunshot wound was still discharging quite a lot of material, and it would probably take a long time to heal completely, it was on the mend. His left arm was still supported by a sling to minimize movement on his fractured collar bone, and to help hold all the dressings and bandages in place. Diego had to be very careful not to show any stains through his clothes, because he was pretending to be healing just a fracture, not an open wound. To his father, he was in agonizing pain due to the shoulder fracture, which was not too far away from the truth as his collar bone was smashed in pieces, but he was certainly milking it a bit.

He heard some hooves sounds and voices at the front of the hacienda, and shortly after, his father's voice calling "Dieeeego!" He stood up and walked slowly towards the front door.

Don Alejandro was cheerfully talking to a distinguished tall gentleman, while helping a lady to descend from their carriage. They both hugged him warmly. Diego approached them and then, he saw _her_. There was a beautiful lady behind them, riding a striking dark bay horse on a side-saddle, her pale blue dress hanging neatly over the side, her erect posture absolutely flawless. She had shiny dark hair, glowing intelligent green eyes, and a stunning smile, which she flashed to Don Alejandro when he helped her to dismount.

"Diego, look who is here," he called, excited. "This is my old friend Don Francisco Blasco and his wife Doña María Luisa, and this is Cristina," he introduced. "This is my son, Diego."

"Look at you, all grown up!" Don Francisco said, greeting him with a rather too vigorous handshake. "We haven't seen you since you were a little boy, about that tall." He signed with his hand below his waist, turning to María Luisa. "Wasn't he?"

"He must have been six or seven years old then," she said, hugging him more gently. "How are you? Do you remember me?" she asked. Diego didn't remember them at all, and answered with an embarrassed smile. "Never mind. It was a long time ago, in Spain, when everything was fine," she said, with a hint of sadness in her voice. "What happened to your arm?"

"I fell off my horse and injured my shoulder. Nothing major," he explained, nonchalantly. "Nice to meet you both." He then turned to face Cristina. "Nice to meet you, señorita," he said, bowing slightly.

"It is my pleasure to finally meet you, Diego," she said, taking advantage of his closeness to plant a delicate, warm kiss on his cheek as he bowed. She would not have struggled much to kiss him if he had been standing upright, as she was quite tall, like her father. Diego was surprised by her bold move, and by the tingling sensation caused by her sensual rosy lips. "Don Alejandro talked about you so much in his letters that I feel as if I already know you."

Diego had heard before about his father's friend, Don Francisco, but he didn't know the whole story, and he didn't remember them staying at their home in the Spanish city of Zaragoza, capital of Aragón, when Diego was six years old. He had forgotten about the experience completely. It was a shock to discover that apparently they knew so much about him, when he hardly knew about them.

"Oh, really?" Diego said, in an affected manner, looking at his father sideways. "I hope everything he said about me was nice," he added smiling lightly, but in a cold tone.

"Of course it was. How else can a father talk about his own son?" Doña María Luisa said, sensing some unresolved tension between them. "Shall we go inside? I am not used to the California heat yet, Alejandro," she said, as a diversion.

"Yes, of course, come in, come in!"

He called a servant to take care of the horses, and they all went inside the hacienda. Diego walked last, behind Cristina, mesmerized. She was slender and she moved with an effortless flowing pace, like a panther. He had never seen a woman so beautiful, not even Victoria.

ZZZ

Once inside the hacienda, Diego learned more about the Blascos. They were descendants of an old Aragonese family, and they had been quite rich before falling from grace with King Fernando VII. They also lost a great deal of their properties during the Spanish Independence war with France from 1807 to 1814. Don Francisco was injured in his right leg during the second Siege of Zaragoza in 1809, with multiple shrapnel fragments that could not be removed, and was still lame because of it, limping permanently. Their two older sons were killed during the conflict. After the city's rendition he was accused of treason and sent to jail in France. Most of his private property was confiscated, even if private property was generally restored to their owners after the war, and the city was not sacked.

Doña María Luisa and Cristina were sent to England with a distant relative after the first Siege in 1808, where they stayed for a couple of years. Cristina objected to this and always regretted being away when her two brothers were killed.

As her family continued with the discussion, Cristina's mind drifted back to those days at war. Like many women at that conflict, she had been quite active in the fighting in the first Siege, and had to shoot a French soldier at close range, killing him when he came into their house charging with his bayonet. Her parents didn't know about this, nor the other many things she did back then when she was only 17 years old —many things she was not very proud of.

Don Alejandro and Don Francisco met in Madrid, when they were 18 years old, and had been good friends since. They had been in contact through letters that Alejandro kept mainly to himself, but Francisco shared with his family, colourful as they were with all the stories about Zorro and the alcalde. That's how they all knew so much about Diego and their life in California. Alejandro suggested a long time ago they should move to Los Angeles, but the Blascos were stubborn and reluctant to abandon their home land, until finally Don Francisco decided to give up and self-exile to California, deeply disappointed with the political climate in Spain. He bought a property close to the Hacienda de la Vega, looking forward to settling down with his family. He thought that he could start afresh in a new society that was developing at a fast pace, in a territory already fighting for its independence from Spain, a good opportunity to leave behind the corruption, injustice and the king's absolutism. But… he was underestimating the alcalde.

"I am so glad you finally decided to move on, Francisco," Don Alejandro said. "I hope I can count on you to be involved in the local politics with the other caballeros when you settle here."

"Oh ,yes, I am quite curious to meet that senseless chap you have as alcalde, and that masked hero you talked about. After all the persecution I suffered, it sounds like relaxing fun to watch."

Cristina smiled. She was also quite keen to meet that mysterious masked man, and to see him in action.

"Diego, why don't you show us ladies the Hacienda?" Doña María Luisa asked. "I am sure these two have a lot to catch up. It is always boringpolitics with the men," she teased.

"It will be my pleasure," Diego said, standing up. He showed them around the property, and when they came back to the garden, Doña María Luisa sat down at the same bench where Diego was resting a while ago, and she made the excuse to stay in the shadow for a while, enjoying the nice aroma of the plants. Her real intention was to allow the couple to talk freely so they could get to know each other.

Diego kept talking trivially about the plants and flowers, while Cristina listened pretending to be interested. After her initial enthusiasm finding him to be so handsome, she began to feel disappointed at having met —yet again— another weak man with no character. The kind she despised. She asked him about his injury, and when he described how he fell off the horse, she smiled kindly, but she scoffed internally. _Falling off a mare like that? You should try side-saddle, my friend_, she thought. _Wimp._

Diego was having similar feelings about Cristina. He was still impressed by her beauty, but he didn't like how composed she was at any given moment, how artificially correct, polite, and boring she was, without any of the openness and fierceness he admired so much in Victoria. In the end, they walked around in awkward silence, not sure how to continue the conversation.

Doña María Luisa looked at her daughter strolling in the garden with Diego, and she wondered if he could be the one who could sweep her off her feet. After all, they had a lot of things in common, like their taste for art, science and music, which could provide endless hours of entertainment for the couple, if everything else failed. They were both good-looking, and tall, which was always an important point for Cristina, who often complained that many men were intimidated by her height, as she was towering at 5ft 11". She didn't know how much of a failure their first impression of each other had been.

ZZZ

Cristina was 29 years old, and she was under a lot of pressure to get married. Her father didn't understand why she would struggle to find a husband, as she was so beautiful and well-mannered and intelligent, but Cristina firmly believed in true love and she had not found hers yet. She had endured the insistence of multiple suitors in the past, but she had always rejected them graciously.

As her two older brothers were killed in the war with France, she was now the family heir. She hated to be treated like a delicate woman, unable to make her own decisions and having to conform to the social rules of her time. She was a very strong willed woman and she didn't want to marry a lesser man than herself, in many aspects, and disliked the idea of having to obey and support such a man, as his submissive wife. But she played the role of the quiet lady nicely, to please her parents.

When she was a child, she enjoyed the company of her older brothers, and she competed with them successfully in all kind of physical games of strength, skills and speed. This provoked her mother's disapproval, and her brothers' embarrassment, because she used to win at these games. When they were growing up, the boys would take fencing and fighting lessons, which she was not allowed to take part in; riding lessons, which she could only enjoy if she agreed to ride the proper way for a lady, side-saddle, never astride; science and political lessons, which she was not allowed to follow either, making do with art and music. She was so constricted by the role of the perfect young lady that she developed an alter-ego of herself, one who could be used as an escape for her frustrations: a_ man._ She would secretly dress and disguise as a boy when she was 10 years old, and she would roam the streets in a gang of rascals, getting in trouble and fights with the other boys. She used to hide and watch when her brothers were having their fencing lessons, and then she would practice in secret until she could master the techniques. One day she picked a quarrel with an older boy who had kicked a little dog to death. She tried to teach him a lesson, but after knocking him down with a few punches, she found herself surrounded by several of the bully's friends, all of them older, taller, and stronger than her. Some were already carrying with them a _zurda_, a small sword designed to be used as an aid for the left hand in sword fight, but that could be used by youngsters as a full-size sword. She defended herself bravely, hitting one of the boys and seizing his weapon. She fought all the others with such passion that a famous fencing master happening upon them in the alley, marvelled at the sight of the young boy's fencing skills and bravery, and realizing his potential, offered to instruct him as his pupil. Cristina confessed she was delighted but could not afford the tuition fees. The swordmaster insisted he would like to take him under his wing, regardless. It would be a shame not to nurture and develop such natural fencing talent, he said. That's how Cristina became an accomplished, although fake, swords_man_.

As she grew older and puberty began, she found it was increasingly difficult to disguise as a man. She had to hide her blossoming female features, and master the techniques to fake incipient facial hair, like the other young men. She still thought that the freedom and excitement the male version of herself provided was worth it, and had carried on with this hobby until the present day. Her favourite fictional character at the moment was a quarrelsome Italian swashbuckler which she used to test her fencing skills from time to time. After the long journey to California, she could not wait for the Italian man to make an appearance in Los Angeles.

ZZZZZ


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 – The Italian swordsman**

The Blascos were settling in Los Angeles. Their hacienda was smaller than the De la Vega's, but still had quite a lot of land, much more than they could have afforded in Spain with the remains of their fortune. Don Francisco was very busy here. He bought a large herd of livestock and had to plan the distribution of the land for the new crops. He also wanted to try a new irrigation system for them, so he spent most of the day riding outside, supervising the men at work and making sure everything was according to his will.

Doña María Luisa was also very busy organizing the main house to make it a home she could be proud of. Cristina, quite bored with her mother's activities (she could not care less about the fabric chosen for the new curtains), expressed her wish to go out riding with her father to learn about the ranch, but he disapproved.

"That is not the place for a woman", he said. "Why can't you be more like your mother?" he asked, cross with her.

"Because I am not my mother! And, unfortunately, I am not one of my brothers either!" she replied, going back to her room, slamming the door behind her. She paced around like a caged tiger, thinking the only way she could calm down was to let the Italian man loose in Los Angeles.

ZZZ

Diego sat on a bench outside the tavern, showing a gloomy face. He was thinking about Victoria, as he always did every time he came close to that place. He wondered what her life was like in Monterey, if she was happy there, and he stressed himself further wondering if she was already pregnant, because she wished to have children so much.

A stranger rode into the plaza at that moment, a welcome distraction for Diego, who turned his attention to him. He was a tall, thin, young man, riding a beautiful dark bay horse which reminded him of Cristina's, but her horse had a large white star on his face and two white feet, and this one had no white markings. The stranger wore a pair of black rim and bluish tinted spectacles, somehow coordinated with a shiny blue patterned waistcoat over a white shirt, a wide brim brown hat, leather brown trousers and high black riding boots. He had sleek dark hair and neatly trimmed thin moustache and goatee. His whole appearance looked too foreign for California. He dismounted swiftly with an agile jump, the long brown sheath of his sword slapping his boot. With brown leather gloved hands he tied the horse to the rail in front of the tavern, and passed by Diego on his way to the door, saluting him by touching his brim, muttering: "_Signore_."

Diego replied with a polite nod. He was quite intrigued by this stranger, so he followed him into the tavern shortly after.

ZZZ

Cristina was quite surprised to find Diego at the tavern's door. Well, it would be a good trial by fire for her disguise: if he didn't recognize her, then nobody else in there would either. She walked to the counter feeling the eyes of the other customers fixed on her back, and gestured to Pilar, who came quickly, also intrigued by this strange man.

"Good afternoon, señor," she greeted him. "Would you like a drink?"

"_Si, per favore,_" Cristina said with a thick Italian accent, the one she used to conceal her own sweet melodic voice. And then, she asked for the drink that would most likely help her to get into a fight, as she was bursting to get into action. "Can I have a glass of _leche_?" she said, in a loud voice. The customers who were looking at her started laughing, shaking their heads in disbelief, most of them going back to their own businesses.

"Milk? Not wine?" asked Pilar, puzzled. In her many years as a bartender, she never had a grown up man asking for a glass of milk.

"Yes, milk," she repeated, turning around with her hand at her sword's hilt, looking intently at the chuckling crowd, searching for a suitable contender. She found a thug laughing loudly with his two mates, a rough looking huge man at the back of the tavern. _That would do_, she thought. "_Qualcuno qui _has a _problema _with that?" she asked, defiantly, looking directly at that man, who showed a broad smile of rotten teeth when he realized she was talking to him.

"Yes, little runt," he said, swaggering closer to the stranger, "I have a problem with that. Milk is not for men, it is for babies and calves. Which one are you?" he asked, also placing his hand on his sword's hilt.

"Neither," she replied, calmly. She turned to Pilar, who was holding a glass and a jug of fresh milk, still unsure of what to do with them. Cristina extended her gloved hand and snapped her fingers, urging Pilar to fill up the glass, which she handed over. Cristina turned around slowly to face the thug again, took the glass to her lips and drank the milk phlegmatically, deliberately allowing some of it to run and drip from her goatee.

"Ah, delicious, _grazie, signorina,_" she said, slowly licking the milk off her moustache. "I am not a baby or a calf, but I am sure as hell you are a swine."

Hearing the insult, the thug threw a wild punch to her face. She was expecting this, and ducked quickly avoiding the fist. She moved backwards away from the counter, threw the glass to the man's head, and slowly drew her sword.

"Not only a swine, but a _porco_ without manners. I will teach you some," she scoffed.

People in the tavern, including Diego, moved backwards, allowing space for the contenders, watching the free entertainment with expectation.

_He is crazy,_ Diego thought. The thug was Manolo Ruiz, a notorious brawler troublemaker known in the region for his cruelty and skill with the sword. He had killed at least three men in similar fights before, and left many other seriously injured, and none of them had dared to call him a swine.

Manolo shook the pieces of glass off his head, quickly drew his sword, snarling at the young man, and lunged forward in a series of vicious thrusts that any other man would find difficult to parry, but not this stranger, who moved his sword with precise and effortless movements, right, left, high and low, without retreating an inch. Manolo swore loudly at the stranger, sweating around his broad red face with his violent efforts, irritated by the calmness and the sneering smile the Italian displayed.

_This is so much fun!_ Cristina thought, parrying yet another thrust on _quarte_. She decided then to spice things up a bit more.

"Come on, _cerdo,_" she said, inviting him to come forwards with her left hand. She always wore leather gloves to hide her delicate feminine hands. "Is this the best you can do? I am getting bored here!"

Manolo kept swearing and cursing, and paused for a moment to signal his friends with his head. They drew their swords and came around the stranger, attacking him from 3 different points. Diego was very cross about the unfair situation, and looked around instinctively searching for a sword. Then he realized that he was not disguised as Zorro, and only five weeks after he was injured and with his arm still in the sling, he could do nothing to help the stranger.

But the agile Italian didn't look in need of much help. Cristina parried another strong thrust by the thug, circling her sword around Manolo's, trapping it with hers, while getting closer to the attacker to deliver a sudden kick to his groin that made him drop his sword and bend down on the floor in pain, growling and cursing. The spectators in the tavern laughed and clapped at this action, delighted. The stranger turned around to face the other two men, who launched a simultaneous attack. She bolted backwards, jumping high to land on a table while one of the swords flew by, close to her leg. She stumped on it with her left foot, crushing the blade against the table, and kicked the thug in the face with the other foot, knocking him unconscious. She faced the last standing attacker, who had climbed onto a bench to become level with her, and with a couple of quick blade blows she disarmed him. She pointed the tip of her sword to the base of his neck, smiling while the thug closed his eyes and swallowed hard, awaiting his death. She was about to back off when the Alcalde and some lancers, alerted by the commotion in the tavern, flung the door open.

"What's going on in here?" De Soto shouted, disappointed because he thought he would find Zorro at the centre of the brawl, not this stranger. "Who are you?"

"Leonardo… DiCaprio," she answered with the first Italian name that came to her mind, climbing down the table, sheathing her sword. "And who are _you_?" she asked back, haughtily, although she already knew.

"I am Ignacio De Soto, Alcalde de Los Angeles," he answered, quite annoyed by the stranger's insolence. "What are you doing creating havoc in _my_ Pueblo?" he asked. "Maybe you would like to try _my_ jail?"

"No, I don't. I just came in for a drink, but, in view of the lack of hospitality in _your _pueblo, I will continue _il mio cammino,_" she said, walking flamboyantly towards the open door.

"Wait a minute," De Soto said, stopping the Italian with his new sword pointing at his chest. "Mendoza! Has he paid the traveller's tax?"

"Uh… I don't think so, mi Alcalde," Mendoza squealed, jumping on his feet.

"What traveller's tax? What is that?" the Italian asked, moving back away from the Alcalde's blade. "I never heard of anything so stupid."

"You have to pay fifty pesos to travel through Los Angeles, or you will stay in my jail for a few days," De Soto said.

"I won't pay anything," she said, unsheathing her sword in a flash. "Unless you make me," she continued, smiling, challenging the Alcalde. "If you win, I will pay a hundred pesos. If I win, I will be free to come and go as I wish."

De Soto sniggered. He missed the previous sword fight, so he didn't know how good the stranger was.

"Very well, a hundred pesos then," he agreed, standing on guard. He clanked his new sword tentatively against the stranger's blade, to start the fight, but in less than two seconds he found himself standing there with his mouth open and his hand empty, his sword landing on the floor at Mendoza's feet. "What the…" he finally said.

"Sorry, Alcalde, I am in a hurry," the Italian said. "I will enjoy a longer exchange with you another day. After all, from now on, I can come and go as I please. _Piacere,_" she saluted, bowing slightly, touching her brim. She sheathed her sword for the second time, and left the tavern at a brisk pace, with the Alcalde and most of the customers following her out. She jumped on the bay horse, galloping away and rearing up at the entrance of the Pueblo, in a Zorro-ish style.

Diego could not help but smile at the cheeky man galloping away.

"Sorry, Ignacio," he said, patting his back. "It looks like you lost a hundred pesos." _And your dignity_, he thought.

"Shut up, Diego," De Soto snarled, marching back to his office followed by Mendoza, who walked awkwardly behind leaping forward from time to time in an attempt to return the alcalde's new sword.

ZZZ

Cristina stopped at an empty derelict building in their property where she had hidden her female clothes, the side-saddle, a mirror, and a bucket of water with a cloth. First, she washed away the black mixture she used to conceal the white marks in her horse's face and legs; then changed the saddles; removed the glasses and the fake eyebrows, moustache and beard; and finally put on her dress. She climbed up the side-saddle with difficulty, because it was designed so a gentleman could help a lady up her mount, and not to be done on her own, and headed home. When she was less than a hundred meters from the main entrance, she heard a gunshot coming from the house. Alarmed, she hurried to the entrance and tried to quickly jump off the horse, but her dress got caught in the saddle and she ripped it off, falling on the ground. She cursed the stupid saddle as she had done many times before, stood up, and ran into the house, on time to hear a second gunshot.

She found her father holding a gun, smoke still swirling out of it. His shirt was spattered with blood, but he seemed to be uninjured. A couple of men lay bleeding on the floor, one of them screaming in pain. Her mother was sitting on the sofa, her hair and clothes dishevelled, and bleeding from a swollen lower lip. Cristina ran to her side.

"Mother, are you all right?" she asked, with great concern. "What happened here? Who are these men?"

"These are thieves. The bastards attacked your mother!" her father said, enraged. "Where were you? I was worried about you, I thought they…" He didn't finish.

Don Francisco had come home earlier than usual today, and he found the thieves in the house assaulting his wife. Without thinking, mad with anger, he jumped on them and fought them with his fists. One of the thieves drew a pistol, which Don Francisco managed to kick out. He grabbed it from the floor, and shot the other one with it before that man could use his own gun. Don Francisco moved fast to reach the loaded gun the second thief had dropped, and shot the first one with it at close range, when they fought to get hold of it. The thief died instantly, shot through the heart. The other one, who was screaming his head off on the floor, was hit in the stomach.

Cristina was horrified. She should have been there, fighting those men at home, rather than enjoying herself with sword play at the tavern. She was grateful her mother was not seriously injured, just shaken and frightened, because her father had arrived on time. Doña María Luisa sobbed quietly in her daughter's arms. The whole episode reminded her vividly of all the misery they saw during the war. A gentle soul like hers could never become used to so much violence.

ZZZZZ


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 – Zorro's comeback**

The man who died shot through the heart was Antonio Pradel, brother of the notorious bandit Sancho Pradel. He had a price on his head for 2000 pesos, dead or alive. Obviously, Don Francisco didn't know this when he killed him in self-defence, but he welcomed the money quite happily.

Don Alejandro was very worried that the bandit's older brother may retaliate against the Blascos, so he invited them to stay at their Hacienda for a while. They had more workers and servants in the house and they could defend themselves more easily. He even asked the Alcalde for protection, but he dismissed him, laughing at the idea of an organized raid by the bandits.

A week after the shooting, the Alcalde and Sergeant Mendoza went to the Hacienda De la Vega to meet Don Francisco to give him the ransom money for killing the bandit. Shortly after their arrival, and just as Don Alejandro feared it could happen, they were attacked by a large number of bandits.

"Everybody on the ground!" Don Alejandro shouted when the first bullets came whizzing through the windows. Doña María Luisa was in one of the interior rooms, away from the windows, and she hid in one of the closets when she heard the shots. It looked like she was going to face the violence once again. The men quickly prepared their weapons to repel the attack.

"I am Sancho Pradel!" a menacing voice shouted outside. "I am looking for that vicious killer Francisco Blasco!"

"I am Don Francisco, but I am not a killer!" he replied, standing close to the window. "What do you want?"

"You killed my baby brother Antonio! You are going to pay for it!" Sancho Pradel cried. "Nobody is coming out of the house alive!" The bandits opened fire again, shattered glass flying everywhere into the house.

"Alcalde!" Don Alejandro said, kneeling on the floor. "I told you we needed the lancers for protection! How are we going to get help now?" he asked, handing over a selection of fire arms he kept at hand for the last week, in case of a bandit attack.

"What about that hero that you talked about, Alejandro —that Zorro? Can he help us?" Don Francisco asked, grabbing a pistol.

"Zorro has been very quiet recently, Francisco. We haven't seen him for many weeks, since Victoria got married," Don Alejandro said, rising over the windowsill to fire a shot.

Nobody in the pueblo had seen Zorro for several weeks. Some people thought he was gone, that he left to follow Victoria to Monterey, or that he was depressed and decided to give up on his fight for justice. Everyone was very disappointed, for different reasons, but nobody thought he could be injured. De Soto was disappointed that he could not be the one to capture or kill him, to be able to return to Spain with a gold star in his resumè. He was especially upset about their last encounter, remembering the episode with embarrassment every time he looked at his new sword. Not that the last episode with the Italian man would help his self-esteem either. He was starting to think the damn sword was jinxed.

"Maybe he has a fractured shoulder, just like Don Diego," ventured Mendoza, crouching down and covering his head with his arms while the bandits fired another round at them, bullets shattering some of the ornaments on the walls. "_Madre de Dios!_"

"Yes. If it wasn't such a ridiculous notion, maybe we could think than Don Diego and Zorro are the same person, couldn't we?" the alcalde said, sniggering, turning on his back to reload his pistol while looking at Diego, who was crawling on the floor towards the other room and the fireplace.

"What do you mean Alcalde?" Don Alejandro said, irritated by his tone.

"Oh, just look at your son. You have to possess a very powerful imagination to depict him as Zorro," he said, laughing. "For God's sake, he fractured his shoulder falling off his mare. The man is useless," he stated, looking over the windowsill, ducking down quickly again, when a musket ball dented the wall a few inches above his head.

Don Alejandro was furious, but could not refute this comment. After all, Diego had fallen off Esperanza, the gentlest mare in Los Angeles, and probably in the whole of California.

"Well, my son has many other talents and unusual skills. He is a man of Science," Don Alejandro said, pressing his jaw, making every point valid with his index finger pointing down.

"Yes, as if science is going to get us out of here," the alcalde said, laughing again sarcastically, firing another shot.

Diego reached the fireplace, rising slowly to stand up. He looked around, watching the other men firing through the windows in the other room. Felipe signed when he was sure nobody was watching Diego, who pressed the mechanism to open the secret door and disappeared through it.

ZZZ

Cristina had gone out for a ride disguised as the Italian man. She hadn't intended making contact with anybody, just wanted to exercise on a long ride, riding astride, not on the restrictive side-saddle that she hated so much. When she galloped close to the Hacienda de la Vega, while on her way back to her secret hiding place at her property, she heard gunshots.

_Oh, please, not those bandits again_, she thought, turning her horse towards the house.

ZZZ

Diego changed into Zorro's clothes for the first time in 6 weeks. The fractured collar bone hadn't mended completely yet, nor had the wound in his back, which would come open oozing some fluids from time to time. But he thought he could manage. Or at least he had to try; everybody was in danger in the house otherwise. He could worry about the explanations about where he was later. Maybe hiding in the closet, with the women…

He stopped at the lab to collect his last experiment, which he had been working on while he was sick: paralyzing darts, using a milder version of the poison used by the Indians in South America. His mixture didn't kill the victims, but made them sleep for at least an hour. He collected his blowpipe and some ready-made darts, hoping there would be enough to neutralize most of the bandits. His trials with the calves had been quite promising, but he had not tried the poison in humans yet, so he wasn't sure about the right dose to use. He carefully mounted Toronado, and they set off.

ZZZ

Cristina rode close to the house and then jumped off her horse. She let it loose, because she had trained him to come back to her with a whistle. The horse let off a soft neigh and trotted happily away towards some fresh grass. She hid behind a large boulder, thinking hard about what the best plan of action would be. There were too many bandits, who carried fire arms, so she could not realistically try to take them on armed only with her sword.

She was thinking about this when she saw the masked man dressed in black that she had heard so much about. He was lurking behind the bandits, approaching them slowly with a little tube in his lips, hiding behind trees and bushes to be undetected. The men he went near mysteriously seemed to cease fire and rest.

_What is he doing?_ she thought. Whatever weapon he used it was working, so she decided to stay put, letting him get on with his plan, enjoying the show from the distance.

ZZZ

Zorro's plan was working quite well. The poison worked very quickly, and most of the bandits didn't even notice they were hit before they fell unconscious. Some of them thought they were bitten by an insect, slapping their necks, pushing the thorns even deeper. The only problem was, he had to come quite close to them to accurately deliver the darts, and there were not many places to hide around the hacienda. Fortunately, he knew them all.

When there were only a few bandits left still shooting, he had to come around further away to change positions so they would not see him approaching them from behind. Then he saw the Italian hiding behind a boulder. He was very disappointed to find out he was a bandit, because he liked him.

_What is he doing here?_ he wondered.

ZZZ

"Now, look who is here? The little runt from the tavern, my little friend!" Manolo Ruiz growled, appearing behind Cristina by surprise, holding a pistol to her head, his putrid breath too close for comfort. He also grabbed her wrist and twisted her arm behind her back so she could not move away. "What should I do with you?"

"Let me go… so I can kick your balls again?" she answered back, regretting it immediately. _Oh, no, that's not going to turn out well_. She closed her eyes, waiting for the loud bang that would be the last thing she would hear, but instead she heard those words:

"Manolo, let him go!"

"Zorro! What are you doing here?!" the thug exclaimed, utterly surprised because he thought the masked man was gone for good. Cristina opened her eyes and looked at Zorro, quite surprised too.

_How did he get here so quickly? A moment ago he was down there. Wow, he is good at hiding and sneaking!_ she thought with admiration.

"Let him go!" Zorro demanded again.

"What do you care, Zorro? This little slimy spaghetti and I have some unresolved business to attend to," he said, waving his gun a little away from the Italian's head.

Zorro seized the opportunity to quickly lift his blowpipe and shot a poisoned dart to the thug, but with the hurry he missed and hit the stranger instead. "Damn!" he cursed.

"What's that? What are you doing?" Manolo asked when the Italian started to lose his footing, falling unconscious, slipping down still held by the wrist with a twisted arm. Manolo dropped him and lifted his gun, shooting Zorro instead, who just had time to jump aside, the ball grazing his left arm slightly before he fell on the ground. The thug threw his gun at Zorro, with no time to load it again, and unsheathed his sword to attack him. Zorro rolled on his side avoiding the first wild thrust by the thug, which hit the ground, and managed to avoid a couple more before the tip of the sword stopped at the base of his neck. Zorro stood still for a moment, while the bandit laughed.

"I got you, Zorro, now I can kill you both!"

A loud bang hit the air at that moment, and both fighters looked at each other surprised for a couple of seconds, before Manolo dropped his sword, falling on top of Zorro.

"Felipe! Thank God! You saved my life!" Zorro said after pushing the dead body away from him.

Felipe had followed him when he realized some of the bandits were already neutralized, in case he would need help to finish the job, and was standing there, with a smoking gun in his hand and a proud smile on his face. He came forwards to help Zorro up on his feet, who complained when he touched his arm.

"It's all right, Felipe, it's just a flesh wound. This time, I was very lucky. Thank you!" he said, hugging Felipe tightly. At that moment, some lancers that were out on patrol came close to the hacienda, alerted by the gunshots.

"The soldiers can finish the job. I think we better get going," he said, whistling loudly. He was very surprised when Toronado and the bay horse appeared simultaneously, coming from opposite directions. Zorro looked at the horse, then at the Italian, then at the soldiers approaching, and made up his mind.

"I don't know what he is doing here, but I don't think he is with them. I will take him away with me. You can go back to the house now; I will be there soon. I will pretend I was hiding in a closet and fainted or something. I can even show them proudly my injured arm this time." He smiled, thinking on how convenient that superficial gunshot wound would be to show off. "Hold on to this horse for a moment," he asked, handing Felipe the reins. He lifted the stranger up the saddle, surprised by how light he was, mounted himself on Toronado, holding the other horse's reins too, and they rode off. He knew of an abandoned building not too far away, were he could leave the Italian safe until he'd woken up.

ZZZ

Don Alejandro, Don Francisco, De Soto and Mendoza came out of the house while Felipe took care of a quite shaken Doña María Luisa. They were puzzled and could not think of a reason why all the bandits lay unconscious on the ground. They came close to the bodies, but they could not see any external injuries on them, and they were all alive, but deeply asleep. Don Alejandro looked for a "Z" in their clothes, but could not find any.

"I don't think it was Zorro who helped us, I can't see any of his carved Z's," he said, somehow disappointed.

"What is this little thorn that this one has here, in his neck?" Mendoza said, pulling the poisoned dart out of the bandit's neck. He accidentally pricked himself with it in his index finger. "Ouch!" he exclaimed, and shortly after added: "_Amigos,_ I don't feel so well…" and he slowly slumped on the ground, where he started to snore loudly.

"Mendoza! This is not the time for a _siesta_!" De Soto said.

"No, look, these must be poisoned, like the darts the Indians use in the Amazonia," Don Francisco said. "Maybe the local Indians here helped us?" he asked his friend.

"Maybe, but I didn't know they use this kind of thing," Don Alejandro said. "Please, everybody, don't touch the little thorns these people have in their necks, they are poisoned!" he shouted, alerting the other soldiers. "You will fall asleep like Sergeant Mendoza!"

"He did this on purpose! What an excuse for a slumber!" De Soto said, probing Mendoza with his boot, shaking him, but the Sergeant kept snoring oblivious.

The soldiers piled up some of the bandits in Don Alejandro's carriage and drove off to the garrison, leaving a few of them tied up at the Hacienda, waiting for collection. They didn't know if they would all fit in the Alcalde's jail, as there were so many of them. They only found one bandit dead, shot in the back, and they assumed he was killed in an argument with another bandit.

"Where is Diego?" Don Alejandro asked, coming back to the house.

"I don't know. I haven't seen your son for a while," Don Francisco said. Just when they were getting close to the entrance, Diego reappeared through the secret door, holding onto his left arm, his white shirt sleeve covered in blood.

"Diego, where were you?" Don Alejandro asked. "You are injured! Are you all right?" he said, concerned for his son, having a look at his arm.

"Yes, I am all right. I think I fainted, I must have been unconscious for a while," he said, rolling up his sleeve so his father could have a look at his arm.

"It is just a flesh wound Diego, you are lucky," he said, relieved. "I think you will need to keep your arm in the sling just a bit longer while it heals," he said, patting gently his son's back. He had come back to the house ready to yell at him because he could not remember seeing Diego firing a single shot during the fight, but he left him alone this time.

"Fainting for that tiny little scratch? Diego, you are such a wimp," De Soto sniggered, amused.

"Where is Cristina?" Don Francisco asked.

"She left with her horse a while ago. She told me she was quite restless being inside and needed some fresh air, and she wanted to do some shopping at the Pueblo," Doña María Luisa said. "Sorry, Francisco, I didn't think anything like this would happen, so I let her go. She should be here soon."

"Don't worry, dear, maybe it was for the best that she wasn't here," Don Francisco said. "Alejandro, I think we can go back to our house tonight. Thank you for your hospitality. I will repay you the cost of the damage to your property. When Cristina comes back, can you please tell her to come home? Or, can she stay here if she is too tired?"

"Don't worry, my friend. She can stay here or I can send Felipe with her to keep her safe, whatever she prefers," Don Alejandro said.

ZZZ

Diego had left the Italian man resting in a derelict building in Don Francisco's property. When all the excitement was over and the Blascos had gone, he sneaked into the secret door to the cave and changed into Zorro's clothes again. He travelled to the old building to make sure the stranger was all right. He still didn't know how long his mixture would last or if it would have any side effects, so the Italian was going to be a good example of what to expect.

ZZZ

Don Francisco was quite tired that evening and wanted to retire to bed early, but he was worried about Cristina.

"Don't worry, Francisco, she probably stayed at the de la Vegas. I will stay awake a bit longer anyway, and wait for her. Go and rest," Doña María Luisa said. She knew that her daughter would sneak out of the house sometimes, coming back quite late. She didn't know the purpose of this, but she never asked because she knew Cristina would be angry and upset. Doña María Luisa somehow felt sorry for her spirited daughter and the way her father would never let her do anything _inappropriate for a lady._ So she let her indulge in the secret activity that would keep her in a good mood. At least, whatever the purpose was for Cristina to be out late, her mother doubted it would be a lover.

ZZZ

Cristina woke up in the empty old house, feeling a bit dizzy, and looked around slowly, blinking. She recognized the place immediately. Sitting up, she visually checked if the items she hid in a corner a few hours before were still there, and they were, undisturbed, waiting for her. She wondered how she got back to that place, because the last thing she remembered was being attacked with a gun by the thug from the tavern. She thought she was going to die, and then…. then… She had to concentrate hard to remember, and finally she did: then, the masked man came to help her, and he blew something from a little pipe, in the same way she saw him do it to the other men, and… She couldn't remember anything else. She sat there for a few minutes, until she felt better, and as she was thinking about changing into her female clothes to go back home, the masked man appeared at the door.

"_Hola_. I see you are alive and well," he saluted, walking into the building towards her.

"Sí," she said, standing up quickly, jumping on her feet. She felt very dizzy again for a moment, but it passed in a few seconds. "Not thanks to you, I believe."

"Who do you thank for your good fortune, then?" he asked, very amused by his cocky attitude.

"I am not sure. Someone who didn't help me by leaving me unconscious?" she said, with her hands at her hips, defiantly.

"If I recall well, I kind of saved your life back there," Zorro said.

"Nah, I had that maggot just where I wanted," she boasted, so extremely cocky this time that Zorro laughed heartily.

"Oh, really? Just where you wanted?" he asked, chuckling. "Ready to blow your brains out?"

"Is that funny? I don't think so," she said, with an arrogant tone she found quite difficult to feign, as she was, after all, quite grateful for his intervention. She put her right hand on the hilt, hesitated for a moment, and finally drew her sword slowly, thinking it would be great fun to fight this man. She doubted he would injure her even if he won, which was the most probable thing to happen.

"Put that down, I don't want to fight with you," he said, shaking his head slowly.

"But I do," she answered, smiling. _"En guarde!"_ she yelled, with a mocked feint attack to make Zorro get serious. He quickly stepped back, drawing his sword.

"If you insist, señor_,_ it will be my pleasure," he said, bowing slightly.

It was late in the evening, and inside the empty old house it was getting dark. They slowly made their way to the centre of that large room, with cautious little steps while measuring each other, their blades up and ready.

"Do I detect the technique developed by Sir Edmund Kendall, _the rosette_?" the mysterious Italian man enquired after a quick succession of blade moves, attacking and parrying tentatively, engaging in a tit for tat dance to test each other's skills, the clink-clank of their swords echoing in the empty house.

"And how would you know that?" Zorro asked, intrigued, parrying easily another tentative hit. Up until now, it had only been him who played the game at guessing his opponents fencing foundations. He could not recognize the style of this mysterious man, who used very precise and technical movements with no strong hits whatsoever. He also moved very fast; his balance and coordination were excellent.

"I have my sources," the Italian replied, smiling mysteriously, with another well controlled quick twist of his sword, which slid against Zorro's blade screeching, until their swords disengaged again, and both fencers circled each other slowly, on guard, looking for another open gap to attack. Cristina had been lucky to attend a few scattered lessons with Sir Edmund on a visit to Madrid where she learned the technique, but she never used it herself because it required a much stronger arm than hers to pull it off successfully, which Zorro could do with ease. And he had just used it.

Zorro kept fencing increasing the difficulty of his attacks, and the Italian always responded with suitable and apparently effortless moves to deflect his blade, keeping him well at bay. He was sure the mysterious Italian had been trained in _Destreza_, the old Spanish system of fencing, developed by Sánchez de Carranza in 1569, same as he had been instructed himself. He thought it was a bit odd that the stranger didn't follow the style of the Italian Rapier School, moving in a more straight line. He definitely moved with the characteristic Spanish off-line foot work, to gain a more favourable angle of attack, but he didn't favour the Third position as followers of Destreza did, using competently a mix of the first fourth ones, as the Italians did. The more he tried to discover the origins of the stranger's fencing skills, the more confused and frustrated he got. The man seemed to enjoy the situation greatly, as if fencing was just a mere game and there was no danger involved whatsoever. In a way, just as Zorro did himself. They both showed a similar mischievous smile on their faces during the duel.

Zorro was distracted by these thoughts when, after a well elaborated _croisé_, the Italian moved his blade fast to carve a "Z" in Zorro's shirt, over his chest. It was not so pretty as the ones he carved himself in his opponents, but, nonetheless, quite neat.

"Ha, ha, I _Zed_ you, Zorro!" the Italian said, laughing provocatively.

Zorro looked at his damaged shirt and had the same thought most of his own victims had before: _"You, cheeky…"_ He continued fencing more aggressively now, with complicated combinations that hardly anybody in California would have been able to resist, but to no avail. The Italian danced around him moving his sword like a windmill, parrying all his attacks while continuously smiling with a broad grin. It looked like as if he was having the time of his life.

"_Señor_, I am losing my patience," Zorro said. Then he stepped back, ready to punch the Italian's face, in order to end such irritating and pointless fight.

Because of the descriptions in Don Alejandro's letters, although she had never seen Zorro fighting anybody before, Cristina knew that the masked man never seriously injured his opponents if he could avoid it. He liked to knock them down with a hard blow instead, so she was expecting his signature punch. She could not let him reach her this way, because he would knock her unconscious or even kill her with the blow. She was very aware of his strength as she could feel it in her sword. At the right moment, she jumped a few inches to the right and ducked, moving away just enough to allow Zorro to past her by with his momentum.

_Damn, he is fast!_ Zorro thought, losing his balance when his left fist didn't make contact with the slippery Italian's chin. His unhealed shoulder hurt due to the wide range of the movement and the speed of the punch he tried to deliver. He was very angry now with the stranger, but Zorro's irritation grew even further when the other man slapped his buttocks with his fancy sword while he staggered forwards.

"_Touché" _she said, laughing. Zorro turned around, growling, and did what any good swordsman should never do: lose his temper and control. He started to attack in a series of furious lunges that Cristina managed to parry, until the point when, with a swift and precise circular movement of her sword, she disarmed her opponent. Zorro's sword flew across the room, landing and sliding on the floor, and he stayed there for a moment, puzzled, catching his breath, panting.

"Ooopsss…" the Italian said with a naughty smile, _"guarda che cosa… mi piace!"_

_Yes! I can't believe it, I disarmed Zorro!_ she thought, over-excited.

"Nice crossing swords with you, Zorro. I have to go now," she said, saluting by taking her sword to her face, and lowering it towards him slowly, with a zigzag motion, bowing while she retreated towards the door. "No hard feelings, I hope," she said, turning around and running across the patio in the twilight.

Zorro heard a whistle call, somehow similar to the one he used to call Toronado, but with a more musical quality. Shortly after, he heard the familiar noise of hooves galloping away.

Zorro shook his head, held onto his left shoulder to massage it slowly, and went to collect his sword. He could not believe what had just happened, haunted by the idea that the stranger had been the first one ever to disarm him. In his favour, he had to consider that no one else before had been able to upset him so much as to make him lose control in that way, and he still had not recovered completely from his injury. In retrospect, he also felt ashamed of the way he lunged and thrust at the young man, because he could have mortally wounded him, unnecessarily, piercing him side to side if he had not been skilful enough to parry all the attacks. The Italian was the most agile swordsman he had ever seen. His irritation gave way to a strange feeling of admiration and respect.

With his mind distracted, when he left the building in the dark he didn't notice the bucket, the parcel of clothes and the side-saddle hidden in a corner. If he did, the mystery of the Italian man could have been revealed.

ZZZ

Cristina galloped fast, full of adrenaline and enjoying every second of it. She had disarmed the famous Zorro! She mentally reviewed some of the fencing movements during their encounter , realizing that she had been in great danger of becoming seriously injured if Zorro had not lost control completely, with somehow predictable thrusts that she could just parry, because the lunges were deep, fast and strong, much better than Manolo's.

Zorro was the best swordsman she had ever encountered, but as a man, he had a weakness: his pride. She had a gift, a wicked way to make people very angry when she needed to, with her naughty insolence, and she had always used it to her advantage to win a fight. She was also extremely grateful he had saved her from the thug.

She decided she liked the masked man, and realized it would be much better to have him as a friend rather than as an enemy; and as a woman, she found him very attractive, with interesting manly qualities. If only some of the other men around her could show an ounce of courage like Zorro, her father would be very proud to lead her to the altar. But surrounded like she was by weak examples of masculinity, like that pompous geek De la Vega, she knew the chances of that were very small.

She arrived home quite late in the evening. She figured her parents would be there as the bandits were in jail, so she didn't go to the De la Vega's. Besides, her home was closer from the old building. She had to leave behind her clothes there, praying that Zorro wouldn't find them, so she had to be very careful getting into the house as a man. But that was never a problem when she was out so late, helped by the darkness. She quietly took the horse to the stable, untacked him, washed the concealed white marks, and headed for the main building.

Once in her private rooms, she removed the glasses, the fake thicker eyebrows, the beard and the moustache, and washed her face thoroughly. She didn't understand why nobody seemed to recognize her with her disguise, because she saw the same face and eyes in the mirror very easily, but it was better that way, that people could be fooled so easily.

She patiently undid the tight bandage that concealed her bosom, removed the sock that completed her manly features from her underwear, put on a night gown, and went to sleep. She could feign a headache in the morning and stay in bed for as long as she needed. Being a delicate lady had a few rewards, after all.

ZZZZZ


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 – The New Taxes**

Alcalde De Soto was quite happy to implement new taxes and laws in Los Angeles without being challenged by Zorro. The last one was about to be announced by Sergeant Mendoza at the plaza, while the alcalde watched from his office entrance with a wicked grin on his face, pulling softly at his beard.

Sergeant Mendoza advanced through the crowd with a piece of paper in one hand and a small mallet in the other. When he reached the designated post, he looked around nervously and gulped while the crowd started to boo and shout at him, some throwing vegetables at his head.

"Madre de Dios!" he cried out. He quickly nailed the piece of paper and ducked, leaving the spot in a rush, with a piece of cabbage hanging off his helmet.

"What is that, alcalde?" Don Alejandro said, coming out of the tavern after hearing the commotion. He was followed by Don Francisco, Diego and Cristina. "Are you once again trying to tax the air we breathe in Los Angeles?"

"Don't be ridiculous, De la Vega. That would be too difficult to measure accurately," De Soto pondered, "but _that_ is an excellent idea…"

"What is it, then?" Don Alejandro asked, folding his arms.

"He's got a new search warrant to look into our properties, which will allow him to search every inch for evidences about Zorro," said a man in the crowd, who was reading the notice, "and he has a new _luxury tax_ where he will tax every non-essential item he may find at our properties." An infuriated roar came out of the crowd following his words. "What do you mean, _non-essential items_?" he asked, turning to face the alcalde.

"Absolutely _anything_ you don't need to survive" was his answer. "While searching for the outlaw Zorro, we will compile a list of non-essential items in your properties and tax them accordingly."

The crowd uproar was deafening by then.

"You cannot treat people like this, alcalde," Don Francisco said, confronting De Soto. "If this pueblo was Zaragoza, where I come from, its citizens would not tolerate this abuse. There would be riots and blood on the streets. You are very lucky people in Los Angeles don't lose their temper so easily in the face of injustice."

"Oh, really… Zaragoza…" De Soto said, pretending to be bored. "Isn't it the city that had to capitulate to the French after a few months of siege? After most of its population, including women and children were killed like idiots because they would not surrender? And what is the point of that?" he asked in a gibing tone.

"Yes, a lot of people died unnecessarily in the war, including my sons, so don't you dare to make fun of that tragedy sir, or I will…"

"Or you will _what_?" he scoffed, with his hand over his new sword's hilt. "Are you going to lead a revolt, sir, as you did in Spain? Is that why you ended up banished in this forsaken hole in California, Don Francisco?"

"Calm down, my friend, don't listen to him, he loves to provoke people," Don Alejandro said facing his friend, with his hands over Don Francisco's shoulders, gently pushing him backwards to get him away from the Alcalde.

Don Francisco was livid with rage. De Soto had touched a raw nerve with his last comment.

"Alcalde," Cristina said in an attempt to divert De Soto's attention. "I don't think you have the authority to implement such a search warrant. I think doing so would be illegal, and also would be over-taxing private property acquired legally by their rightful owners."

Diego looked at her, surprised. He didn't know she could speak her mind with such eloquence.

"Is that so, señorita?" De Soto asked, mocking her. "And your legal expertise is due to…?" he asked, circling his right hand repeatedly, waiting for an answer.

"That's it!" Don Francisco shouted with his hand on his sword hilt, ready to draw it. "Defend yourself!"

"Sergeant, arrest this man," the alcalde ordered calmly.

The crowd booed again and vegetables and eggs started to fly once more in the air, reaching for the Alcalde and the soldiers.

"Lancers! Fire at will at anybody who shows any aggressive behaviour!" he shouted.

"Alcalde, you cannot shoot innocent people like that!" Don Alejandro roared, waving his gloves in the air.

"Why not?" De Soto said, deflecting a carrot projectile with his right hand. "The French did that at Zaragoza, didn't they?" he said, sniggering. "Lancers, arrest Don Alejandro too!" he ordered, pointing at him with his right index finger, a flying lettuce landing in his face at that point.

"On what grounds?" Cristina asked.

"For challenging the authority, and for provoking and inciting a revolt!" De Soto shouted, cleaning himself up while retreating to safety inside his office.

The soldiers pointed their muskets towards the crowd, which broke apart getting away from them, people still shouting, and walked towards Don Alejandro and Don Francisco. The lancers surrounded them and pushed them in the back with their musket tips, towards the jail.

"Diego, do something!" Cristina begged. She knew her father's temper, and she was afraid he may draw his sword and have himself killed rather than surrender, as he did during the war.

"Father, don't worry, I will get a lawyer," Diego said, itching to go back to the hacienda to get into Zorro's clothes once again. He was still using the sling, but his shoulder was much better, the gunshot wound nearly healed completely now, and he was confident he could manage anything. He wasn't bothered about the new injury in his arm, because it didn't interfere with its movement that much.

_Is that all you can come up with?_ Cristina thought, disappointed, letting out a long sigh. Definitely, another clear example of a wimp.

"Yes, Son, do that. And get a doctor too, the alcalde has gone crazy!" Don Alejandro said, entering the building with his hands in the air. Don Francisco followed him, so shocked by his friend's lack of resistance to this abuse, he forgot about his sword.

ZZZ

Diego made some excuses and left to go back home to the cave. Cristina considered going home and coming back disguised as a man, but didn't have a clue on how that would help the situation, unless she could challenge the Alcalde somehow again. But he would not fall for that trick a second time. In the end, she decided to give it a try, and she went back home too.

ZZZ

Inside the cell, Don Francisco was furiously pacing about, limping and ignoring the chronic pain in his leg. "I can't believe we let that swine put us in jail!" he complained, still enraged. "What are we going to do?"

"Calm down, Francisco," Don Alejandro said. "The alcalde can be erratic and act on a whim sometimes, but he may be up to something. Probably he is setting a trap for Zorro if he comes to get us out of here. That's usually his way."

"Arghhh!" Don Francisco cried, grabbing the cell door by its bars, shaking it furiously. "If I had my sword ready before, the alcalde would be singing with the cherubs by now!" he boasted.

"You sometimes remind me so much of Don Quixote, Francisco," Don Alejandro said, smiling. "You cannot go through life fighting all the windmills and giants your imagination throws in your way. There is always a time and a place for everything, and that was not the right one to fight the alcalde."

"And, if you would put a bit more weight on, you would make a very nice Sancho Panza yourself," Don Francisco replied, slightly cross with his friend for his remark. They both loved the classic novel by Cervantes. Don Alejandro called his mare _Dulcinea_ for that reason.

"You should call your horse _Rocinante,_" Don Alejandro teased.

"And you should ride a donkey, rather than your precious _Dulcinea,_" retorted Don Francisco smiling too, calming down a bit. "What should we do then to get out of here, if I am not going to fight all the evil in the world in a chivalrous quest?"

"I don't know, Francisco, maybe…" He was interrupted by the commotion on the garrison's patio, outside the jail.

"Look, it's Zorro. Let's go after him!" the lancers shouted, rushing to get to their horses. The two friends tried to look outside through the barred window in the cell, but it was too high up.

"It looks like I am about to encounter your masked bandit today, Alejandro," Don Francisco said, quite curious to finally meet him.

"Zorro, it was time you reappeared!" Don Alejandro said, excited, looking towards the window. He turned back to face his friend. "Zorro is not a bandit, Francisco, he is a real hero. And much better at his trade than Don Quixote, by the way," he added, smiling.

"Thank God for that!"

ZZZ

A few minutes earlier, Zorro had reached Los Angeles riding back on Toronado. He was a bit late because he first checked his law books, looking for any useful information to help his father, but after a while, very frustrated when he didn't find any, he put them aside and went to the cave to get into action. On arrival at the pueblo, he climbed onto the roof top on a distant house, letting Toronado loose to go and hide as usual, awaiting for his whistle call, and he walked carefully to a position closer to the alcalde's office and the jail. He was very surprised to find the Italian man already squatting in there, looking down at the men at the garrison's patio.

"What are you doing here?" Zorro whispered, crouching down next to him, surprised to find the stranger hiding also on the roof.

"Same as you, so it seems. Getting these men out of jail, getting in the Alcalde's black book… I want to be the next hero in Los Angeles," the Italian said, smiling. Cristina hoped Zorro was in a better mood after their last encounter. He seemed to be somehow pleased to see her, anyway.

"Maybe we should join forces in this task, then," he suggested, amused by the mysterious man, all his anger forgotten. After all, he admired him quite a lot, and he enjoyed his cocky attitude. "Should I ride on Toronado to draw the lancers away, so you can rescue them? They can hide in the tavern afterwards, while we find them a horse."

"_Si, mi piace_. I like that idea. Do that," the Italian said, nodding.

Zorro whistled to Toronado, who came back quickly, surprised because his master had called him back so soon after he left. Zorro jumped on the saddle from the roof and rode to the garrison's entrance. Toronado threw open the door by pushing it with his hooves. They went in, cantering around the small space in the garrison's patio, creating a great disturbance while giving time to the lancers to get on their horses before galloping away.

ZZZ

Cristina got into the alcalde's office by the opening in the ceiling, as Zorro had done many times before, but she landed awkwardly and dropped her glasses. She could not find them after a quick search, so she decided to go on and come back to look for them later. She went to the jail through the back door, careful to avoid any other lancers. Passing through the garrison, she saw her father's and Don Alejandro's horses in the stable, and she smiled. They would not need to hide in the tavern after all, they could ride away immediately. She sneaked into the jail, got the keys off its hanger, and opened the cell's door.

"_Hola,_ _amigos,_" she saluted with her thick Italian accent. "You are free to go," she added, bowing slightly, showing them the way out with her extended arm.

"How did you get in here?" Don Francisco asked. "Who are you?"

It was the first time Cristina had encountered her father while dressed as the Italian man, and she feared he could recognize her without her glasses.

"Who I am is not important," she said, lowering her face to avoid looking at him, covered by the wide brim in her hat. "But your freedom is. Go! _Andiamo_!" she urged, and they all came out of the jail quickly.

"Thank you," Don Alejandro said, reaching for Dulcinea, who still had all her tack on. She was lazily munching hay at the garrison's stable, through the bridle's bit.

"Go and find that lawyer of yours… don't go home yet, just in case," she said to Don Alejandro, while holding the reins so Don Francisco could get on his horse. Because of his chronic lameness, her father always had a bit of difficulty mounting on his own, just like Don Quixote, but he would never admit to that.

When both riders were up and ready to go, a few lancers that didn't ride out of the garrison chasing Zorro spotted them, and one of them shouted, pointing at them:

"Stop right there! Where are you going?"

Cristina slapped hard her father's horse's rump and the beast jumped forward, running away followed by Dulcinea. Then she drew her sword to fight the lancers. There were four of them, who came to surround her with their swords but, remembering how quickly the Italian had disarmed the Alcalde before, they didn't dare to attack her. Sensing their fear, she smiled broadly.

"Boo!" she shouted, charging forwards in a mock attack. The two lancers in front on her retreated quickly, and she laughed. She whirled around delivering hard blows to their swords, disarming the four men in a jiffy. From a distance, it looked as if they had dropped their swords themselves, to help her.

"Go away now!" she ordered, threatening them with her sword, and the lancers walked over each other to get out of her reach. They knew Zorro would not hurt them, but they were not so sure about this mysterious Italian's intentions.

After they left, staggering across the patio and through the door, she sheathed her sword and turned towards the alcalde's office to look for her glasses. As she approached the door De Soto came out, sword in hand, and quickly pointed with the tip at her chest.

"Stop right there!" he shouted. "What's going on in here? Why is it always you in the middle of the trouble?" he said, surprised again to find the Italian, rather than Zorro. De Soto had been at his quarters, having a siesta, and hadn't heard the lancers chasing Zorro out of the pueblo. But he woke up on time to hear the turmoil outside when Don Alejandro and Don Francisco rode away.

Cristina smiled when she spotted Zorro on the roof walking carefully towards them. He had returned on time to help her after eluding the lancers on the fields outside the pueblo. He jumped off, landing softly and silently on the ground behind the Alcalde.

"What are you laughing at?" De Soto asked before feeling an impatient tapping on his right shoulder. He turned around. "Zorro!"

That was the last thing his mouth said before it encountered Zorro's fist for the first time in a long while. He slowly dropped unconscious on the ground.

"Nice blow," the Italian said, smiling, bowing and touching his brim. "Thanks again. You are developing a taste for sneaking and saving me at the last moment!" she said. Zorro laughed.

"You are welcome. My pleasure," he said, bowing himself, also touching his brim. He then followed the Italian into the Alcalde's office.

Cristina was looking for her glasses, but she could not find them anywhere.

"What are you doing?" Zorro asked, intrigued.

"I am looking for my glasses, I dropped them in here before. I can't see very well without them," she lied. "Be careful don't tread on them."

"Where are the prisoners?" he asked, looking around, careful with his step, also searching for the glasses.

"They are out. I told them to go to the lawyer rather than home," she answered, kneeling on the floor to look under the desk.

"Look at this," Zorro said, pointing at the impressive huge desk the Alcalde had purchased while Zorro was missing in action, tired with the old one, which was full of carved "Z's" all over. He approached the desk, drew his sword, and carved a large new "Z" in the middle of the desktop.

"There. There was something missing," he chuckled. Cristina also smiled. Zorro was so funny and playful sometimes. She liked him for this.

At that point, the lancers that were chasing Zorro came back to the garrison. They climbed down their horses, tired with the effort. Mendoza spotted De Soto on the ground, close to his office door.

"Mi Alcalde!" he shouted, running close to him to try to revive him, slapping his face several times. "Sepulveda! Bring a bucket of water!" he ordered.

The Corporal came quickly with a bucket and threw the water over De Soto's head, who woke up immediately.

"Mendoza! What happened? What are you doing?" he asked, pushing the Sergeant away, shaking his head like a wet dog. Then he remembered: "Zorro!"

ZZZZZ


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10 – Zorro is confused**

Besides purchasing a new Toledan sword and a massive new desk with the money collected from taxes, De Soto had also got a new cat, a grey ball of fluff he could stroke slowly while plotting his evil plans. It was a mischievous creature that stayed most of the time curled up in a basket in the Alcalde's office, or curled up on his lap. That cat meowed loudly and repeatedly after Zorro thrashed the desk, to alert his owner.

Cristina grabbed the cat from its basket. It twisted around in a frenzy, struggling to escape, scratching wildly at the unwanted contact, yowling and spitting. Its front claws caught her right shirt sleeve, tearing it slightly before she could throw the cat out through the open window. The cat landed perfectly on the street and run away hissing. When she returned, her sleeve had a small blood stain showing through.

"He got you," Zorro said, pointing at the Italian's arm.

"Oh… sweet," Cristina said, coming back near the desk, ignoring the scratch. She saw the glasses at the bottom of the cat's basket. "There they are; what a cheeky cat." She took them and put them on.

The Alcalde, alerted by the noise, stood up and walked towards his office. Zorro, hearing the sound of his steps coming in, urged the Italian to hide under the desk with him. He thought it would be much more fun playing hide and seek rather than knocking De Soto off once again with a punch.

"Arrghhh! That bloody Zorro! Not again! My new desk!" De Soto cried when he saw the large Z. He paced up and down the office simmering in his hatred for Zorro, dripping water all around him.

De Soto didn't realize the Italian and Zorro were hiding under the large desk, waiting for him to leave the office. They sat very still, with their bodies close together in the uncomfortable confined space, feeling each other's respiration, rubbing their skin against each other with every respiratory movement, inhaling each other's scent. Cristina turned her face towards Zorro, who lifted his gloved hand to sign her to be quiet, putting his index finger over his own lips, smiling lightly. She stayed still in that position for a while, looking at his masked face, his eyes, his lips… when a sudden urge to come even closer to him took over her will. Shortly after the alcalde left the room through the back door, she came forwards and kissed Zorro, softly to begin with, then passionately for a few seconds due to his eager response. She opened her eyes and suddenly realized that, at that precise moment in time, she was Leonardo, not Cristina, and she pulled back away from him.

She saw her own uneasiness reflected in Zorro's eyes, who stayed there with an utterly confused face, his mouth opened in disbelief.

_What the… _he thought,_ I am kissing a man!_ His body jerked involuntarily due to the shock, trying to spring to his feet, and he banged his head hard on the table top. Luckily, the Alcalde was already outside and didn't hear the loud thud he produced. Cristina crawled on her knees from under the table, jumped on her feet, and ran to the front door. Zorro followed her, a bit dizzy and unstable on his feet, his head throbbing in pain.

"Wait!" he called, but she ignored him. She stepped out whistling loudly, and sure enough, two horses came by the door shortly after, also looking at each other as confused as horses can be. She jumped on her bay horse, sank her heels at his flanks, and galloped away from Zorro as fast as she could.

"Look, it's that damned Italian again!" one of the lancers cried, pointing at him, following him with his finger.

Zorro jumped on Toronado and also set off quickly, galloping in the opposite direction.

"And look, there is Zorro!" another one said, also pointing.

"Zorro!" the Alcalde said, coming out of the garrison. "Lancers! Go after him!" he ordered, unsheathing his sword, running with it in hand to the middle of the plaza.

By the time the soldiers were ready, mounted back on their horses, neither Zorro nor the Italian were anywhere to be seen. The soldiers stayed in the plaza, hesitating. They didn't want to set off on a wild goose chase for the second time in a row.

"Argggggghhh! How can he escape yet again?!" De Soto yelled, cursing. Frustrated, he hit hard the stone fountain in the middle of the plaza with his new sword, which broke apart in many pieces. He looked at the hilt in his hand, which had a very short portion of the blade still attached, and cursed again. _Toledan steel? Impossible!_ he thought. _It would never break in pieces like this!_

"MENDOZAAAAAAAA!"

ZZZ

Toronado galloped fast towards the Hacienda de la Vega. Zorro's mind was running even faster, reeling over and over the episode under the table. He didn't understand how it happened. He had noticed before some unsettling low intensity new feelings for the cheeky Italian, which he had ignored and dismissed quickly, convincing himself it was due to his admiration of his fighting skills, nothing else. But, when they were under the table, so close to each other, he started to feel a vague sensation of desire, the kind he had only felt around Victoria before, a sensation that he once again repressed more or less successfully, until the Italian suddenly kissed him. The contact with his lips sparked off a wild reaction he could not control. He didn't understand why, and he could not approve of himself and this improper behaviour, which felt so right and so wrong at the same time. Besides, he thought he was still in love with Victoria. This could not be happening.

Diego was so confused he remained in a haunted state of mind for more than a week, worrying Felipe and Don Alejandro, who thought his son was going crazy.

ZZZ

Cristina was also very confused herself. She didn't understand how she could have been so careless as to let herself go in such a way. But she was so attracted to Zorro at that precise moment under the desk, she surprised herself. And he did respond to the kiss! That was also very upsetting, to find out that he could be interested in men. She was quite sure he didn't suspect she was a woman, so in a way, she was quite disappointed with this discovery. And, because she had heard about Victoria and how difficult her relationship with Zorro had been —to the point of getting married, running away from him— she blamed herself for being so stupid as to fall in love with a man she didn't know, and who could end up being homosexual.

She decided to keep the Italian man in the closet for a while, and watch Zorro closely as Cristina over his next appearances in Los Angeles. And she suffered in silence in the meantime.

ZZZZZ


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11 – Revelations at the dinner table**

The Blascos had invited their friends for dinner that evening to celebrate that the actions taken by the lawyer had resulted in the Alcalde giving up his attempts to implement the new _luxury tax_ for the non-essential items. Diego was reluctant to go, as he didn't want to spend the night pretending to be fine, having to engage in trivial conversations while he was going through such an unexpected sexual identity crisis. He had not taken care of his personal appearance for a week now, and it would take him a while to groom himself into an acceptable look. But his father insisted the activity would be an excellent distraction for whatever his troubles were and, finally, he agreed to go.

Diego sat down at the dinner table opposite to Cristina. He was not wearing the sling anymore, his injury completely healed now. His father sat to his right, in front of Doña María Luisa, and Don Francisco was at the head of the table, close to them.

Cristina was as beautiful as ever. She was wearing a pretty green dress, with short sleeves and embellished with embroidery and laces. Her dark hair was pinned back in a glittering hair clip, and her slender arms were on display. Diego looked at them, distracted, comparing them with Victoria's, which were much thinner. A fainted, thin red line on her right forearm caught his attention. He didn't know why, but that line was important somehow.

During the first course, he engaged in polite conversation with the Blascos, gazing at that scratch from time to time, trying to remember its significance. By the second course, suddenly he remembered that the Italian was scratched by a cat, and his heart skipped a beat. He looked at Cristina again, scrutinizing her. He gazed at her arms another time. They looked strong, slender but firm, with muscles that could be seen as slightly prominent for the average woman. Her right arm would definitely be capable of handling a sword. She had roughly the same height as the Italian, the same dark hair, and she could definitely look similar to him with a beard and glasses. By then, Diego's heart was racing. The more he examined the woman in front of him, the more similarities he found with the Italian. Their horses looked similar. They both walked with a similar springy active pace too. At that moment, Cristina and Don Alejandro were talking about England and Shakespeare, and the beauty of the English language. He had to ask, he had to be sure.

"Can you speak Italian?" Diego asked, politely, looking at Cristina for any reaction.

"No, not very well," Cristina said, lowering her eyes. _Why is he looking at me like that? Maybe he suspects something. How could he know?_ she thought.

"How can you say that, dear?" her mother said, interrupting the conversation. "Excuse my daughter, Diego, she is very modest," she apologized looking at the De La Vegas. "She studied at the Academy of Fine Art of Florence for two years. She is an amazing artist and she speaks Italian fluently. She is well gifted for foreign languages," she glowed, with a radiant smile.

Cristina bit her lip. _Damn you mum, shut up! _she thought, stirring on her seat. She glanced quickly at Diego, and saw his smug expression. _Oh, no, he definitely knows._

"Oh, how wonderful," Diego said, satisfied with Cristina's reaction. She was the Italian man, he had no doubt now. He was more mesmerized by her than ever before. How could such a gentle creature transform into a brawler man, one so skilled with the sword that could even disarm Zorro, was beyond his comprehension. Besides, if she was the Italian man, the one he had been so disturbingly attracted to, everything was fine. It meant he liked _her_, not him. He felt a huge relief at that point, a massive weight lifted off his soul.

Cristina saw a new spark of appreciation in Diego's eyes, and she kept looking at them trying to discover why, while he was talking to her mother. The more she looked at them, intently, the more she realized she had seen those eyes before, and some intense feeling stirred up inside her… Then she gasped, nearly choking on her food.

_No! It cannot be!_ she thought, coughing, reaching for her glass of water with a shaky hand, spilling some over the table cloth. Diego was distracted at that moment, talking about art with Doña María Luisa, and he didn't notice her lapse. He could nicely fit the description: same height… same black hair… same moustache… same blue, sparkling eyes… For the first time, she saw Diego in a different way. Maybe he was a great pretender, like she was. But she had to be absolutely sure; she needed some kind of confirmation, although her heart already knew. She had an idea to find out right there.

"Diego…" she hesitated, not quite sure how to proceed. "What did you study when you were at University in Madrid?" she asked, with her sweetest voice.

"Many different things. I studied Sciences, like physics, chemistry, mathematics, biology, astronomy…" he answered, vaguely.

"What else?" she pushed.

"The Arts, like… painting, music, poetry, literature… and history… politics…" he could go on forever, because he was interested in everything and took many courses.

"Did you learn fencing?" she asked sharply, tired of beating around the bush.

"What?" he asked, surprised by the sudden turn. She was looking at him in a strange way now. "No, I didn't take any formal training, no… I am not a man of action, as my father can tell you," he said, smiling coyly.

"Yes, Diego, you are not, I agree with that," Don Alejandro said. "But, I did enrol you to study with Sir Edmund Kendall, the famous swordmaster."

_I've got you!_ _Bull's eye!_ Cristina thought, excited.

"But you were so busy with your books, and your skills with the sword were so pathetic that he gave up on you, didn't he?" Don Alejandro continued, teasing his son.

"Eh… yes… we didn't want to waste each other's time," he said. It was his time to stir on his chair now.

"Sir Edmund Kendall, ah? I think I heard of him," Cristina said, forcing her mouth to stay straight, fighting a smile. She pulled her napkin to the left side of her face, pretending to clean herself, and she whispered, making sure only Diego could hear it: "the swordmaster who invented _the rosette _technique?"

Cristina put down her napkin and stared at Diego with an imperturbable face.

_There, now I know who you are, too,_ she thought. They gazed at each other for a while, realizing the great similarity of their true natures for the first time, until simultaneously they broke into a frank smile.

_And now what? _they thought, their joy radiating off their faces, fully appreciating each other for the first time_._

Don Francisco was oblivious to the situation and he started talking about his student days, but Don Alejandro and Doña María Luisa caught the smile between the couple. At that point, they both shared a happy thought.

_Look at these two! Thank God, could it finally be happening? Babies! Babies!_

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

FIN

**A.N**** – Thanks for your interest in my story. Either if you liked it or not, please review and let me know what you think. Your comments will be much appreciated, even if you review this story years after it was first published. **

**If you like this story with new original characters, now you can keep reading Part 2, also taking part on a challenge. Don't be discouraged by the unusual non-D/V pairing, and please, keep reading. **


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